So
40Po27
Poetry

So.
The stars twinkle
In the dark nighttime sky
I hear you sigh beside me
The crescent moon is glaring
At both of us, sitting near
A quiet stream trickles by
The air is clean and sweet
But a little chilly
I see you shiver;
I offer my jacket,
But you say you're fine
... so fine

I turn my head to look at you Your eyes are closed, Face held upward into the sky You whisper softly: I'm cold And I offer my jacket again This time you accept You put it on And then you huddle close ... so close

The moon begins to set The cresent cut-off midway Between the sky and the land I look at you again; You were watching me A smile forms on your lips And one forms on mine, too You look into my eyes And then at my mouth You move closer; (And I don't shy away) Your kiss feels soft ... so soft.

1989 July 19

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