By: Dane Shannon
Summer Sunset
You wonder where I’ll go tonight,
so afraid of my absence that
you turn away preemptively.  
You cling to my warmth, holding it
in your soft blanket.

Autumn Dawn
You have conjured a storm between us
and in it you cry, softening your own skin.
And you begin to pull away from me,
gratefully free from my smothering,
stifling blaze of passion.

Autumn Dusk
You lean farther back by the day, and when
I reach to touch you, my warmth is
lost in the space between us.
You wonder where I’ll go tonight. I won’t.
You turn your face from me.

Winter Daylight
How far away you’ve withdrawn. You
shady rock. You hide from me under a
wet blanket, cursing the distance
between us—cursing that I’ve grown
cold and dull.
Winter Solstice
Your stiff skin is still. I cannot reach you.
The nights pass longer than ever
as I watch you turn in early
and sleep late into the morning.
You have never been farther from my touch.

Spring Daybreak
This morning, I saw you shift
closer—back to me—ever so slightly.
Somehow, your heart is changed!
I stretch myself to caress you—to
kiss your face as I did before.
Come closer now. Let me hold you.  

Spring Afternoon
Your chilled skin thaws as I
now reach to brush it tenderly.
Then all at once I embrace you
and you bloom and blush
in the warmth of my arms.

Spring Evening
You’ve turned away to dream
as you always do. And your blossoms
will shrink and close in the dark and cold
of my absence. But listen: I’m always burning
for you, as you turn and lean and wander from me.

Summer Solstice
You turn and wake to find me
pouring over you freely.
And you turn and press yourself  
against me—feverish and unabashed
—glowing as I kiss your face again.

Summer Sunset
What’s this?
You’re turning away

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