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The Mystery of You
by Sharmagne Leland-St. John

When the first snows came
I stacked more pine logs onto the hearth,
Extra down comforters on the beds,
And I slept in the crook of your arm.
The warmth of you radiating,
Eradicating the icy breath of winter,
My lips searching for your mouth,
Your tender kisses.

In the cold mornings,
No bird song,
They'd all flown south
Their silence echoing
In the frigid wind.
The whiteness like a shroud
Encompassing the pasture.

With the world still asleep,
I tried to decipher
The mystery of you
Etched in your eyes.
We shared intimate moments
Beneath flannel sheets,
Posing questions
That had no answers.
We no longer speak of the past,
We leave it where it belongs,

And our hearts swell
With feelings
We cannot comprehend.
We can only
The economy of lines
You trace with fingertips,
Picasso-like on my
Breasts, round belly,
And thighs.


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