aftermath

un-sing the days
take away
take away brushes
of fingertips
drawn together
by their own
private gravity
uncircle, unwind,
untwine the limbs
in longing fused
that heat’s
long used
and grown cold
without the friction
of a once fond other
disparate nights
and mismatched
patches of days
pry the minutes
of our moments
slowly apart
un-sing the ways
take back,
take back the lips
that ground me
and the hands
that confound me
those skies
have died
in a rush of gray
a blaze of dismay
here is the crater
where love resides

© Sarah Whiteley

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distant limbs
of absentee lovers
embrace the spaces
minutes expand
discarded sighs meet
and pass in vacant vaults
moth-white whispers
of dreams so deep asleep
they drift in shallows
among clefts of night
where fingers linger
and spread the hours
of unwaking waiting
longings scatter skies
and lights that have died
burn cool to the touch
of remembered skin
flesh-held impressions
where rapt hands
once kissed navelled bliss
the bygone glow
of tangling torsos
casts echoes of heat
wider than desire
farther than fingers
can reach

© Sarah Whiteley