I miss that week in November...
The skies still smiled, blueberry.
Winds awake in silent upheaval
nights without windows of ice.

On a smaller mattress, we slept.
Close with no option to distance,
Days carried on without knowing
Time held us in its grasp.

There's awake or there's alive.
Both are people we know counting fingers
You awoke me with your kisses
You traced me with your eyes.

Deep beneath the skies of dark satin,
The night you may not remember.
I recall as if it were minutes
Between what was then and now.

2 am, your sweat, my whispers.
The feeling of never enough
our heat exchanging impulses.
Then your sudden hands on my cheeks.

Your lips my lips you kissed me
As if they were a sacred nectar
I could feel all the corners the crannies
Your heart that encompasses mine

Just an unsuspecting gesture
A silent and beautiful moment
How I miss that eve in November
When none else invaded our minds