Temporary shadows by Walter Bjorkman

I stare out the pain wanting an exit from the loving grip keeping me here keeping my hair tied to your bones my way forever following yours let’s leave, I say our shadows can stay sighing about us without us a farmer’s market tucked away in a grove heavy with the sapor we no longer have you don’t eat peaches you become them, lips swollen in juices breasts swathed in pulp the fruitstand becomes our bacchanal as I taste the mellow ripe succor almost as tender as you shadows are merely memories gone astray for this moment your desire opens the shades for these times I will stay

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