March
It came with snow and paralysing zephyrs
a season or two back when I was isolated.
My bones felt the briskness you know
even though my eyes were void.
I remember now as I walk
with my face blanketed beneath my scarf
how hostile winter can be to those of us alone.
Even if a second passed with the hand of someone-
to cling to it would replace all this barrenness.
When did we become more than friends
an outlander with no face or voice has come to
while away a few days inside my hollow existence?
He came one night in February
when I was lower than my lowest apex
and life was a muted embarrassment
of walking in circles to be heard.
His words pacified my inner voices
and brought serenity to the demons within.
When does light come from darkness
and labours such beauty all around?
We seem to intermesh on many levels
that reach further than normal-
fallible words and emotions.
He strokes my peace with masterful hands
and I fondly call him my darling.
No bodies touch just coupling of minds.
He called to me in seasons past
and entered my life in
March . . .
