it

______________

  it must be November 
                        it's cold for  a day then the rushing color comes back


   returning like a sigh along the wood of our thought


                          the lovers and the misplaced places
                                             buttons beneath leaves and lips


         someone saying your name
                                                    
                                                 someone sighing

2

   but the dry cold days between the lover's arms 
  or not and the clay
   and the hot
            and your day 'laying  back'


   or not that, and a few and far between these oceans
    of world, and the destiny of space   ~ .




________________