The hazy blue makes it easy
Easy to unwrap ourselves from wisps of clothing
To imbibe warmth which penetrates subcutaneously
Hard are the deep emotions which yank and yell in harsh, abrupt staccatos, saying, “Go!”
Although she really means, “Stay.”
Stay, because your scratch-heart eludes healing balm
And this sun is hurling magic, which penetrates her murky soul
Easy are the embraces of warmth on her face; hard are the lines of rigid obstinance.
Crashed murmurings and sighs.