They see – me
They say things – to me
It is revealed – for me
The new moon slips its smiling face
Above the morning camisole of mist
And shines a gentle beam
Across my lovers breast.
An early breeze stirs fading shadows,
As night is chased further into the dawn
By the golden promise of an autumn sun,
And reveals the soft curve of lips –
“Stop staring at me” she smiles…
But I never will.