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How High is the Moon?

by Kim Bennett

I should have asked,
“How high is the moon?”
That luminous orb
strung to the earth by
invisibility.

Profile view:
A slight curve of lips.
Lips that silence me with sweetness,
as I hide my eyes in reply.

Droplets fall from sky
to flesh.
A warm nocturnal storm

Deaf and blind,
spotlights and applause
between world and cloud
vanish in our frozen time.

Still.
Still as the curved woman carved into
the fountain, over-flowing.
Near the tree weaved in ivy.

Watching a strong neck bend,
just below fingers braided between
colours of coffee and cream.

An image to fit for a Grecian Urn.

Flash and thunder.
The embrace breaking
arms, not eyes.

The incessant storm soaks the skin,
refreshes the voice that says
“I love you to the moon.”

02/17/2007

Author's Note: Another poem for the boyfriend. I'm aware of the cliche lines. :P

Posted on 02/18/2007
Copyright © 2024 Kim Bennett

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