A cool breeze washes me and sweeps me up
Like a curling leaf in autumn.
What is it you have done to me?
Washed me clean of light?
Spoon me your healing honey,
Paint me in your richness.
A velvet darkness has descended
As a mockingbird upon a branch
And it sang to me.
Too quickly was there and gone.
It left me naked in a certain blankness,
A dankness of the skin.
Platted in my amour of this life, I cried,
I’d never felt so touched inside.
© By Adriana Grossman