Summer Harbor

My body aches with the longing of a thousand wants,
treating remembrances as some ghostly present state.
The shadows emerge, dragging heavy blankets behind like bodies.
The living recede into the light while I follow the darkness as bats do,
wings fluttering and voice piercing the night,
the echoes bouncing off your presence as I seek you.

I breathe in your love with eyes closed.
I need not see you to know how you feel
how your lips mold onto mine;
a synchronized dance of flesh and flames.

But my eyes are greedy and restless:
They open, and I want to watch
as summer drifts and lands softly upon your skin.
Your eyelids now the color of the sunrise
I hold my fingertips to your lashes for a touch of light.

That is the most I can ask for now,
beggar that I am for some small offering of your soul.
I glimpse myself in the window glass for a second
and I see my face painted against a clear sky.
This is what my eternity must look like.

I take in one last breath of your scent,
and it carries me gently back into the dark winter morning.
It is because of you that my mind ebbs and flows,
drifting to you by the moonlight,
a small boat returning to its harbor.