echoes-ii

poem

What is a voice that it can do this to us?

A low clear tone crossing a room
can call forth days so summer-gold
(despite the changing seasons)
and nights so honey-sweet --

I have no choice, but must bathe in you,
in the rich darkness that is you
in the dry champagne of your swift mind
and the soft caresses of your heart.

Let me drown in you again
I cry,
help me forget the days and time and
salty wounds that lie between us.

I walk across the room,
reach out a hand to lift the heavy weight of hair
from off a curving back and fold you into me
-- it is not you. She turns, and frowns.
I back away.

I am left
alone again
with only echoes.

What is a voice that it can do this to us?