Love Flight

by on May 23, 2014 :: 0 comments

Plant a kiss on my lips
with your whole fire
so that I can know
your bones.
Time has made you nude.
My vision is interwoven
with the roots;
the roots which grow
from our hands and feet
and only go down
to the floor.
I’m flying up and down
between your nudity
and the floor.
Around me
a winter’s night whistles.

editors note:

Cold Winter’s nights; the best time for serious tree climbing. :) – mh

Leave a Reply