In the Colding Hours

In the colding hours,
The hours when shallow, daylight bravery
Is asleep,
And we are left with, thrown back upon, the courage
That always comes at the cost
of our surrender naked to another.

In the colding hours
When masks fall like old, rotten nests
From high branches swaying in a strong wind,

And when hearts bloom,
When hearts sometimes open and bloom.
When hearts unbidden and unexpected
Sometimes Bloom.

In those hours twice you came
Wearing scented oils and bearing candles.
Wearing scented oils and trailing shadows
That were darker than your eyes
And warmer than down.

I could not those nights
Gather you
Without on touch
Fusing skin to skin with you
To One

In the collision of our bodies,
In the collision of our spirits,
In the colding hours:
Fusing skin to skin with you
To One.

3 thoughts on “In the Colding Hours”

  1. Delightful poem, Paul! Very fine phrasing. My personal interpretation of the lines (as I’ve savored them) is that it’s something to do with a vulnerability between two lovers, mending something that is….perhaps not broken, but distant. The joining of naked bodies forms a symbol of emotional connection, or reunion. That is my take, anyway.

    Liked by 1 person

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