Traced Within

I traced your skin
with the edges of my memory.

You didn't flinch, nor move
in yesterday's resemblence of a winter's storm.

Flurries ravish through the strands of
hair, spinning dust across the
nakedness in the passing Joshua Trees.

I can only drape my desires between
two distant whirlwinds dancing across
the horizon.

You just don't know.

I can't say that my
canvas remains attached.

I can't paint the portrait needed
to release the petroglyphs instilled
in my songs,
in my prayers,
in my fireplace.

Nobody knows that my
dances remain in your footsteps.

You just don't know.

Echoes scream across the coming
of a winter's sky.

A stance no long inside the
coming of our alter.

Tip me over.

Release me.

Yet kiss me once more.