It is a rainy night
when the wind beats at your door
like a lover you have turned away
~
She comes back
trailing leaves and branches.
She comes back
in a shower of earth.
She comes back
with blades of grass still clinging to her hair.
~
No matter how hard you hold her,
you are still elsewhere
making love to another.
~
No matter how hard she holds you,
you are still
elsewhere.
~
Your bodies slide together
like wet grass blades,
You cling and stop the raindrops
with your tongues.
~
Later you rise
and pick the nettles from your hair
You take the leaves for clothing
~
Your loneliness
is a small gray hole in the rain.
You rise and go knocking
at her locked front door.


~SAS~