A Semblance of Love

by Xanthe   Dec 24, 2012

I give in to the urge to pull away dry skin from lips,
gazing blindly at trees, ermine-drenched,
regretting at once as blood met tongue.
It is that time of the year again; when nights are brighter
than mornings, when cashmere is suctioned to our bodies
- and we don't mind - when I could watch clouds of our
breaths waft through the air, collide, dancing
(but this time, you couldn't take the lead)
right before the breeze tore them to nothing,
while you held my gloved hand - oblivious, woolgathering -
waiting for snowfall, you said, like a child; fascinated.

I bite my lip, and you -
you wipe away the blood.



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Latest Comments

  • 5 years ago

    by hiraeth


  • 5 years ago

    by Everlasting

    Gone? Gone with the wind. Still waiting till that wind brings you back

  • 5 years ago

    by hiraeth

    Just coming back to read this. Love reading this in the fall/winter time.

  • 8 years ago

    by L

    A love scene semi-dark?

    Here is what this piece made me wondered, how exactly does that person wants the blood to be wiped away from his lips? with a kiss? wiped away with a finger? In a sort of playful way .. tempting, ..

    and also, it made me picture this two characters in a winter with the snow covering every land they stepped in. While they made the surroundings their own.

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