Ounce

When Paul said he was hungry
he meant for Lori’s hands
kneading into his flesh
so the bedsheets
would bandage loneliness
while the soft night soothed
all the consonants and vowels
escaping his exaltation.

He wished it to end with an amen
that spread across the sheets
like the June breeze
through the open windows
and yet be a hullo
that inspired a deeper reacquaintance
and lead to honest conversation.

It would be a vaccine
that protected them from the emptiness
of the black space between moon and stars.

copyright © 2023 Kenneth P. Gurney

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s