The Lovers by Marty Wolff
Night slips into my room
and I call it fiction
that no one might think it true.
On a long summer evening,
a different trail will come to me…
the scent of a man with no body.
I will cling to the ghost of his perfume.
I will cling…
Don’t tell me this isn’t truth…
How you crackle like fire
in the deadest stillness of darkness.
How you glide like nightfall over my skin.
How I grasp the spectre of your descent.
How you erode my flesh
like a million years of rain on stone.
*** Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!!!