Drops of you and me in the winter of our love.
Beneath my vocal cords, fingers knead the tongues of your kisses with the smell of wine.
Our souls dismembered by pasts that do not intersect; creators of a love as elusive as my adiós.
Tea leaves tell our future.
Your steps hang in the streets like the breasts of the earth under a bittersweet sky.
Your face grows washerwoman skin.
The land imprisons me.
I cry.
Las lágrimas del mar.
You and I.
My poetry collection Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings is available on Amazon here
image: Liliya Kulianionak; Shutterstock; [link]
@Gabriela Marie Milton
