thighs

Holding close by force,
separating at every chance –
just to give the other space to breathe.
A constant struggle
of getting too close to be ripped apart for air.
Fighting and finding ways to hate each other
because the end result is always evident.
The warm flame as they rubbed together
slowly burned out.
Soon it became ice grinding
in a bitter winter chill.
Then spring came.
The ice melted
leaving the water for flowers to bloom
between what was once frozen skin in no man’s land.
The very force driving the winter
had gifted a glorious rebirth.
Now with skin touching again
with the warmth of afternoon sun – softness like daisy petals.
A beauty in the union of the vessels,
one hidden in crisp winds,
now brought out by the
warmth of dawn.
-a.p