Losing June

House of Heart

By morning I have renamed us.

Thrumming wings take flight

 through crimson wounds

you have christened with your hands,

 a forgiveness I can believe in.

I’ve etched your voice in my memory

to not forget the glossy sound

of humming wings when you speak.

In dreams crystal eyes orbit above me,

brilliant satellites,

so that I may sleep free of shadows.

I’ve pared us down to dark and light,

forgotten all I knew of love and when

I try to speak my words catch

at the cache of my throat. 

Image

“The Embrace” by Gustav Klimt

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