The sky cracks and raindrops tumble
Like coins from a sundered pocket.
You shatter your stride and duly wait,
Neck arched, eyes clasped and lips unlocked,
For the first bead to stroke your skin.
And there, in those iced-over moments,
The world entire draws deep, heaves and holds,
As blinding white scores the sable sky
And a newly mended heart swears to stop
For one more glimpse of your silhouette.
The sparks flash and fade once more,
And your figure is burned
Forever upon my open eyes,
As if your gaze in the heavens met
The pale shape of a ghostly Enola Gay.
Then, the plunge – the hands and sands shift,
The firmament’s grip finally falters,
Your tongue creeps from between your lips
And the first bead hits and trickles
Down well-known lines once traced by tongue.
You slowly turn to me and smile,
Moving closer so I feel your breath
Blow blessings and curses over my skin;
Your eyes then lips catch me and hold.
‘Break me gently,’ my heart whispers.