April was a cyclonic
return of your hands
between my lips deliberate
converse to that cool Autumn
where the red leaves died
shaken to forgo memory
here we stand in foot breaths
toe to toes gently nudge
to a new unknown, yielding
my agony like stipules half-grown
my heart a compressing
feverish thing.
Stand on the outside
know just how fragile hearts
can be. Vapor between our teeth
echoing fear like a compound
a drug, this confession.
So might we see the light beyond light
the darker dark. To the mystery of forgiving
and the pitter patter of rekindled love.
Em S. Austin 
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