Still in our grace
we stretch the space between us.
I am given to thinking
will your mouth still remember the taste of me
now that our bodies love has turned so cold?
I remember reading how white is the colour
of old loves forgotten.
I am so afraid to ask, did you know that
when you sent me those lilies.
Let me wrap my legs around you
rest my head upon your shoulder.
For what does it matter if our love has become safe
somewhat old in its point of view.
For what in our years of nakedness
should we have held back?
Both of us taking.
Now your body turns its back to me
and I shall stay awake all night:
For what is time
outside of these shadowless interpretations?