The One Who Moves Me by Stewart Stafford
Her caress and laughter,
Cast out the darkness,
And lull the choppy waters,
Her embrace, a flowering meadow.
Her absence stills the earth,
Cracked ice on a frozen lake,
Asphyxiating silence descends,
The Faustian poker of loneliness.
Lexicons filled with her silences,
Seismic shifts of stinging rage,
She, in naked imperfection as I,
Together, reuniting in shelter.
© Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.
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