Memory Seven

Storm filled hearts
Still whisper the glory,
Her neck the scent of tangerine and sun soaked bark.

Even after summer's slow majestic fall,
I still hold my breath to catch her.
A glint, a smile,
An echo,
The burred grace of guilt wrung hands,
And inside me she is dancing.

Home

A mother's elegance
Left choking
Redefines these light starved buildings,
The bonecrack of truth
Distils the scent of young male hope,
And with sorrow stitched into our wrists,
We kiss delirious inept goodbyes...