in between shadows
the sounds of quiet in the night
riding the backs of afternoon breezes
caressing the cold outsides of windows
existing as someone
other
Something
other
only in touch
only in sound
a hand on the back of a neck
its not there
pressure and heat compressed against lips
its not there
memories of fragrances navigating auras
They are not there
fires by moonlight
rivers deep beneath earthen floors
lingering far beyond the time
the time to begone
It's over
still
It's not done
©Christopher F. Brown 2015
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