by Kristine Briese

The distance between our two
telephones finally closes,
and I look into your
eyes again at last.
They are that dark splintered
blue of my dreams.
I look at your mouth and
remember its vivid warmth,
its hesitant, questing touch.
You lean forward
I lean forward


My heart rises like a balloon.


Posted on 04/03/2002
Copyright © 2022 Kristine Briese

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Rachelle Howe on 01/01/04 at 10:48 PM

and then pops when it's over, non? man. yes. humans.

Posted by Laura Doom on 06/02/07 at 07:12 PM

...after drifting off into surreality with the energy of hot air...

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