Anam Cara

Love Notes

Your clear shoulder

when the clothes have gone

seems so sure of us.

Gently, hands

caress and kindle

the glow, the skin

delights to know.

Your tongue,

a tiny peninsula

curves, stretches

longing to give way.

Currents swell, calm,

flow blue flamed

and sea sweat

beads flesh.

Scruples of hair

linger across your eyes,

order tossed to the wild.

Sounds entwine,

say our names,

the roar becomes

a whisper to

breathe clay open.

And the return

is from a distant kingdom,

where they were

neither mirrors

nor eyes.