Maeve Mc Kenna

Night Wish

In the cacophony of cloud

some respite

the hills become mountains

we undress

I conduct your cheekbones

make them huge

touch stubble on your jawline

shape my finger around

the white lobe

of each earth

whisper in it

soil is calling us

In calendars we amplify a smile

timbre as rain

imagine Death

is a calendar

and

outdated