Friday, August 7, 2009

Clinging To Morning Mist

The familiar heat swept through me
as our tongues danced.
My first kiss, when I was a little girl
everything became sharper, solid
as a nail through a butterflies wing.
Gradually that faded and now, going through the motions
he’s as fleeting and noticeable as
dissolving morning mist.
Passion is a poor substitute for affection
but we all need someone
to distract us from being alone,
which is what ultimately we are.
I peek under my lashes and see
the face of all my lovers --
he could be anyone.

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