About the night sky.
One slight tilt of the head
and you can get lost in it.
Defying gravity.
Sucking every last bit of you
inside the midnight blue eyes of it.
And seeing those stars of course.
Those sequins.
Tender kisses of some sort;
on the forehead, along the nape,
behind the ear...
One after another.
And then theres the moon.
God of the universe.
God of all of us.
Honeydew ripe.
And ready.
His pulse felt easily
even through an evening cloud.
Coaxing us.
making us lean
into the desire...
of the night sky.
That bittersweet ache in the heart.
A knowing.
It's impossible not to want it.
Linda R. O'Conne