untitled
poem 62a

to leave you is an awful ripping
a movement back to those basic human elements
i become when i am alone walking
it's a fear of perhaps never weaving together
ourselves again, in the innocent strands
or that, without you, my soul is less

to see you after we have been apart
is the beginning of some wonderful event
to be able to hug you, and kiss you
for the first time
to ask: who are you with my eyes
to feel your breathing within my own

to be with you is a stripping away of fall leaves
my colours scatter the ground
i am naked against the washed sky
but you are the warm wind
and any imagined winter is merely
a small step away from the gentle trickling spring

© Thomas Trofimuk

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