one more hour
of leaning into each other
and if you come
closer,
so close
that you can blow
your voice into my mouth,
then these sounds shall be wind
that lifts my eyes from their dark places –
they blow away, they are wind,
the starry scarves of every goddess
of the air, a sunbird, soft with moon,
above the rooftops
of your lips
to return,
like the blossoms and the birds
and the stars that have forgotten
branch and sky,
to the wetlands of your throat,
warm and open,
like a homecoming


















... thanks, Leslie - and for reminding me about Neruda's poem again 







.I have a line in almost every poem which is cliche.You however are not.So this poem was really like a sigh.A beautiful thought out sigh. 















Good luck in the contest, my profound & lovely Sister of the Soul. 
110 old applause
