realities

We lie as one and then as two as
‘tween our arms the silence grows,
Until in time the quiet’s voice
Tells her, again, that she must go.

She leaves the bed, the room, this world,
To live her life apart
From time and space and she and me,
And troubles of the heart.

And then she says, at moment’s last,
When do and not collide,
The dusk, the dark, the black of night
But ode to what we hide:

A moment of midsummer
That slides inside the breath of fall,
A warmth that fades at midnight
Like thoughts, or dreams -- a siren’s call.