2d
In separations, the smell of death lingers,
And in reunions, life, warmth, and solid timber.
The forest sings for the leaves of east,
And welcomes thee, then whimpers—
Of joy, what joy, what wonderful winds
That bring the breath of winter
That cling onto my lady’s breast
And promise me to bring her.
And in reunions, life, warmth, and solid timber.
The forest sings for the leaves of east,
And welcomes thee, then whimpers—
Of joy, what joy, what wonderful winds
That bring the breath of winter
That cling onto my lady’s breast
And promise me to bring her.
Breath caught between seasons, a whisper where endings and beginnings entwine.
(28/M)
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