Lovers lie, waiting for each other to speak.
Wordless fingers touch and caress their flushed skin.
Stretches of time pass unmarked as they linger,
caught in the moment.
Stretching, one stirs, rustling sheets and blankets.
At once overjoyed and embarrassed, he smiles,
’til the smile’s replaced by a kiss being planted,
full with a promise.
One, alone now, waits at the station, holds his
freshly loved flesh wrapped in his jacket, keeps warm,
watches dancing moths in the glaring arc light,
lost in remembering.
Nervous hands spill coffee at breakfast, as he
tries to keep from checking his cell phone too much.
His uneasy stomach reminds him that he’s
Stepping turns to skipping as lovers’ eyes meet.
Trembling lips kiss, hands intertwine and squeeze tight.
Overstretched smiles ache with the joy that they’re back
once more together.
I was introduced to sapphic stanzas by a book I got at Innisfree called The Practice of Poetry. This poem is the first and only sapphic I’ve written so far. I had a lot of fun working with the rhythms in this form.