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She stands where the river blows her hair wild

no youth and no favor for her
no hands to clean the salt licks on her skin
her palms are dreams wrinkled dry
yet craving an offer.

You come from a distant land, she says,
heavens bless you.

I got no small change, I respond,
my mind drifts to ponder,

a small change, I need that too,
always hungered for
and faltered through
like I missed the vessel narrowly
to be on the river's other side.

Maybe when I come back,
I turn toward her.

She was gone.
Harwood Point, Dec 5, 2017
An abortive river trip, a chance encounter
 Feb 2018 bex
harlon rivers
The trap was set by the light of the winter blue moon ;
just a simple blank sheet of paper and a pen
The Antique Cherry carved poster bed stood alone ,
adorning four Bordeaux colored silk pillowcases ,
fluffed feather pillows impatiently laying in wait
The stone cold down comforter that blanketed the loneliness
was neatly turned down from where it lay tucked and rolled ...

I close my eyes with a surrendering sigh ;
the cold touch of solitude brings a breathtaking shiver
Curling up in a fetal ball for a sense of closeness ,
like a tiny abandoned child, waiting for the sandman
to steal away the remains of another lonely day ...

In the imperative silence of the moonlit stillness ,
you could hear the blood running through my veins
The pounding heartbeat is reluctantly softened
quietly drifting off into a dream ...

The first arousing whisper broke the silence ,
as musings tiptoed through the silent reverie
Songs danced throughout the secret places ,
safely kept out of the wilderness' nocturnal voyeurs eyes
Words murmured expose an unsated caged yearning ;
an insatiable thirst that aloneness can not quench ...

Emotions ebb and flow within the twilight depths
of our thickly breathed word play
Intertwined in the infinite beauty
of enchanting moonstruck conjured delights ...

We glide speechlessly in the starlit moon dust,
levitating blissfully like giddy adult playmates
with  an  uninhibited  wanton  glee
Mesmerized by a rousing romantic essence
stirring up an urgent swooning breeze
If only this recurring dreamfulness
could reach out beyond reach a bewitching dream
to tenderly touch another impassioned heart of soul ...  

                                 ~

The sweat soaked sheets are now tangled ,
twisted traces of ecstasy tossed and turned
Awakened flesh trembling with the uncovered morning chill
A body drained and exhausted
as if there were never a moments sleep ...

The trap was set by the light of the winter blue moon ;
perfectly placed to catch the spilled secrets
of a moonstruck midnight spell
Awakening to find a paling illusion’s memory
laid bare in words, stranded on the cotton sheets of dawn ~

In the heat of the night these three simple words 
were clearly scribbled, trapped on the once blank sheet of paper ―
                       to remind me in ink blue ...

                               It  is You !!!

                                    and

               " I breathe you in my dreams "



             harlon rivers ….❤  happy belated St. Valentines day ☽
Thanks for reading !!!

"Breathe You in My Dreams" ― Trixie Whitley
https://youtu.be/1nEnenji0PI
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