L Ia Ains Cy Rinn a Elle (Part Six)
From my pocket I draw forth my friend
The best of me
I have held her inside this moistened leaf of lily
Since the day I set down booted feet across these desert sands
One lifetime ago I cried a single tear and herein I placed
As it lay dying on the shore of years gone by
Across the breadth of this leaf
Across the width of this leaf
To breathe it back
To breathe it back and liven it too
That I might,
That I would,
That I have
Held my friend the best of me in this leaf
Who breathes
Who lives
Who waits
Has waited for me
Though the expanse of blistering sands yawned before me
All around me for years and . . . twice in life a time lost was I amidst these dunes
I can feel it whispering silently
With its cool tepid breath brushing lightly across my back
My neck with feather light kisses
Creeping over the tips of my short cut hair
Comes the memory I am afraid to see
Still I turn and I look
I do, I do . . .
I cup my hands before in the shade of me
And I sigh a soft whispering of breath
Across her sleeping body to wake her gently
So in the dying moonlight
She wakes
With a fluttering of eyelashes
We meet once more again
The best of me
My friend
And I smile a quiet sort of smile
That echoes the murmur of day
Across her skin glimmering inside the shade
“L’ia Ains cy’rinn a’elle . . .” breathe I
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