The Edge Of Day
You climb to my herb scented cave
you come with your cat eyes,
curling mouth, and unnatural wisdom.
You speak in shades,
your voice a quiet touch.
I bind your dark hair in light.
Our hearts shed the weight of old tears
and silent sighs.
We eat dried fruit
watch sleeping doves,
their breasts,
blooms,
creamy white.
©Tasha 2000
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Published in the Feb. 2001 WOMEN'S ISSUE of Conspire
photo by: Jessica Lovina Guimond
Model: Thomas Henry Fitzgerald
Email: tasha@sub-con.zzn.com
