The pale window

House of Heart

The sun is still low in the sky,
it’s rays have barely begun
to pierce the chill of our pale window.
Don’t go,  we are scarcely out of dreaming.
Caress my breast with the lifeline of your palm
while my head rests in the crook of your shoulder.
With these  fingertips you kiss one by one
I will ease the furrow of your brow and
soothe your body with the twining of my own.
Let the hours pass  through us tenderly
like a shallow river of fledgling reeds.

Steve hanks art

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