NaPoWriMo Day 3

HERE
She was no wanderer⁠— 

but oh⁠— 

I wanted her. 

Come here, collect⁠— 

that timid pause

between your breasts

as your breath rises 

then falls in a tempo

of forbearance. 

Come here, forget

that April fear 

of wild expanse. 

We are autumn now⁠— 

both crows feet

and fallen brows.

Come here, my pet⁠,

and lay your head

on that awkward pause

as my pulse quickens

then slows in a tempo

of assurance.