I look for the spaces,
the pauses between moments,
the lingering touch of
impassioned glances
under moonless nights
as Pegasus marches
across the sky
and we kiss in the cold
huddled under blankets
high atop Pajarito’s stillness.

Your arms warm around my waist
stroking my back,
the softness of fingertips,
the twisting of tongues,
and words unspoken
that hang in the air
as if perched upon Ponderosa,
another pine cone for the fire
that builds inside us
soul searching.

  • Previously Published 2000

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