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November
By
elliotlacey31

November

Tags: love, poem
My favorite time of the year
I want to be the last note lingering

as the song fades out and becomes

a final chord to follow you into 

your dreams and paint the 

walls you curiously touch, 

trace your fingertips along before

stepping out of the house.

You follow the cold night air, 

ghostly mist swirling around when

you exhale and dry leaves crunch beneath your bare feet, 

following a path to the woods, 

the familiar trees and faint sweet cinnamon scent of the same forest

where we first kissed when I chased

the music of your laughter as the only

beacon guiding my legs along cool soil and

pale moonlight until we embraced and I

only knew the feel of your body pinning mine against a tree

And your lips claiming me as yours and only yours.

And even though you move through here

alone now you know a presence is near,

that memory has its own energy that

follows our every step and carves

itself into our sleep.

Your eyes grow entranced by a 

rainbow of lights pulsating, 

flickering the closer you get to where

we already met but it was the first place

we truly began to know each other.

But, like all dreams, the conclusion

comes before the mystery is 

solved and you awaken.

Unaware that I also dream while 

sleeping close to your warm bare skin

Where you make all that cradles 

me like you once said, 

when you confided in me that 

you wanted to fill my heart with

volumes books cannot contain, 

longing cadences no creature could ever mimic, 

how you wanted to stare into

me and make illuminations beyond

any known spectrum of light.

The final glow when I slip into sleep

and let memory after memory stitch

together and make a tapestry of you

that I've devoted every night to remembering

But like explorers who could once only

travel by the placement of stars and hand-drawn maps,

I can only go so far each time and

the needle within the compass I hold endlessly spins,

telling me each direction and 

destination you have made 

for me is just as important as the last.

I follow every new dark ocean 

and know that your presence 

is here in each coast I drift to, 

that you're every ripple in the water

beneath and even if I crash you will be the

ocean wrapped around me as absolute and

natural as the way your arms wrap

around me now as I sleep

And you are each night the darkened sky

is edged with dawn's light before I

awaken to your face near mine,

the same love that claims me

as yours and only yours.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than Lushstories.com with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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