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To pass away gradually dissolve in the air I feel you soaking bare Fingers in your hair richer deeper fuller beyond a world compare Something breathes in your garden beneath petals aching to open You've gathered in me, words, states of being naked thin in a glen Out of the vanishing fade in a mist lifting from I see you in a field, And in that moment of a circling long evanescence soft slow yield Upon a felt distant, warm, in a shape, a woman, who I cannot stay In the even most intimate closeness always already slipping away I feel in you deeply--you sway--meaning blurs refuse to pin down A skin that rubs beauty as the dream slides in angles to the round We touch it just enough to feel it disappear in a fog lost in a vapor Like bodies in the grass, words on a glass, ghosts of desire we stir You kiss me and already, the warm in you grows cold waiting old You drift inside the movement always just inside the flowing fold.
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Mar 28
Mar 28, 2026 at 8:57 AM UTC
Evanescence Soft Slow Yield
To pass away gradually dissolve in the air I feel you soaking bare Fingers in your hair richer deeper fuller beyond a world compare Something breathes in your garden beneath petals aching to open You've gathered in me, words, states of being naked thin in a glen Out of the vanishing fade in a mist lifting from I see you in a field, And in that moment of a circling long evanescence soft slow yield Upon a felt distant, warm, in a shape, a woman, who I cannot stay In the even most intimate closeness always already slipping away I feel in you deeply--you sway--meaning blurs refuse to pin down A skin that rubs beauty as the dream slides in angles to the round We touch it just enough to feel it disappear in a fog lost in a vapor Like bodies in the grass, words on a glass, ghosts of desire we stir You kiss me and already, the warm in you grows cold waiting old You drift inside the movement always just inside the flowing fold.
There is in a moment of beauty, an evanescence in the folds of life, that seems to slip away from me the moment she breathes hello, I can see the ghost of her, a dream, a whisper in the night, a caress that holds me, comforts me, with her nothing, promises an empty fullness out of sight.
DarrellBaughn
Written by
62/M/Jackson, Mississippi
Mar 28
Mar 28, 2026 at 8:57 AM UTC
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