Silverish
The perfect petals puncture the fabric’s purple-blue,
And silver-platter fins paint the water every hue.
A globed sky has thawed, ripe with pine and sapphire stars—
And the glinted sheen of the oil graze on your lips reminds me who and where you are:
South; below the electric-white moon,
Bright enough to bleach my bones and leave me a fool.
Both sun-blind at midnight, rainbow scales in the night light,
Finding the love in the cracks of your paw—unlimited, yet finite.
Newborn, yet aching, with nothing left to give,
With famine’s touch still singing, but no love to let live.
It was my intention to escape you before we met again,
But the bends of the grizzly river flow, uncaring and unwavered—
And now your soft claws have my head, again wishing to be savored.
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