Monday, May 2, 2011

Falling on Our Heads

Dripping leaves
billow over chutes of bark
that scrape our backs
as we clutch the aged grooves with haste.
Your arms drape around my shoulders
from behind,
blocking raindrops as if
they were fatal
and holding me as I grasp the trunk.
We laugh
with the realization of our youthful
existence.
You spin me around and I face you.
You
and your blue eyes that make waves
when droplets fall from your lashes.
You
and your thin wisps of drowned, knotted hair
that's drips dissipate in the folds of your
soaked shirt.
You and your fingertips
that stroke my slippery cheek
and pull my chin toward yours.
Raindrops cling to our skin,
trickling down your forehead
to my nose
as we,
young and blind,
turn to smile at the dark sky.