Tuesday, February 11, 2003

that morning

and i am simply a fool
to be here; i'll regret morning
when it comes. but your fingertips
trail shapes in the darkness
pierced only by candles
and i feel your touch on my skin.

and yes; my skin
has missed you, i have missed you. i was a fool
to stay away so long. the candles
burn tiny flames into the morning
trying to stave away the darkness
but in the meantime - your fingertips

as the song sings, "your fingertips,
- anyone will do..." but not for my skin -
i need you - your face in the darkness
smiling, and my own smile in return; i'm not a fool
to be here after all, and the morning
is a brighter aspect lit by the flames of candles.

the candles
drip wax onto your fingertips
as you pinch the flames in the morning
leaving charcoal on your skin
but you don't mind; you're a fool
still smiling at the thought of the darkness.

i lay entangled in you. the darkness
encroached, and the candles
didn't help at all. "was i a fool
to think at all?" your fingertips
traced the beat of the song into my skin
and i hated to leave in the morning.

and this morning
is not a welcome change from the darkness
we so enjoyed, your skin
and mine together under the light of candles
as you trailed words with your fingertips
and the song is wrong, i'm not a fool

not in the morning, with the candles
mere nubs; the darkness and your beautiful fingertips
caressing my skin; oh no, i am no fool.

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