too cold to walk back into rooms locked 15 years
looking at the brilliance of the bed like a snowdrift
the calm crackle of the fire and his hands all over you
the body holds things like that sea
this was the year that held the turn
15 years on.
you could look at a face and see it, see
smiles again, see eyes, see mirth begin to rise
inside in a hot sun day
it isn’t good to mourn the past
not 15 whole years of cold
not 15 whole years later
not now that you begin to feel release
body aching itself alive again
~
VALENTINE BONNAIRE - WRITER 