I held your hand without
sweat, without the pull that came
around the spiral. We laughed
and dear-trotted with the group
summer skipping under clear
utopian skies. As we were pulled
out again everyone broke up,
shredding the daisy chain and
before I could let go our bodies
met in elated basket woven
energies. You were sweet warm
fragrant oils melting into my
skin and as you fused in my
blood I could feel the tingle
of mystical herbal
infusions healing as my hips
melded with yours and your
hand explored the plains of my
back and with our eyes closed
we left that space and swirled
combined in a warm
wift of wistful soul-joined
air.
As we pulled our selves apart I
wanted to give a newborn wail at
the separation. Our mingled scent
lingered despite the rush of foreign
breezes between us, but I was
suddenly unsure, smiling shyly at
the exhilaration. I wanted to know
you better, but you were like unpicked
wildflowers I wasn't
greedy enough to gather. I flew
away with your pollen still
clinging
but mingled memories
are all I can smell.
May 14, 1997
Heather Shaw
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