gilded

gilded
for Keikei
2016, revised april 2022

better
than any
other sun,
to track the
sky to its
final edge
and know
the blessing
of having
been,
that
setting sun,
the drink
to be drunk
dry,
fire that
burns now
the day
to ash.
a kiss
this late
afternoon,
we, who
first kissed
with salt
spray on
our lips,
rain damp
and fragrant
in our hair
of winter
storm,
kissed
this day in
the late sun,
lushed on
a kiss,
sun-kissed,
too heady
even for the
sun that staggered
drunkenly down
and muddled
our shadows
longer over
the grass toward
the estuary, its
waters already
plated with a
look of evening.
i felt that
breath of cold
time beneath
the heel,
we must
walk quicker
towards that
falling sun
to kiss again
in its gold,
while still
we are
warm,
while
still we
have warmth
to flee through
nights of a
failing moon,
to snuggle
into dawn,
and
every kiss
we sway
within is
gold,
whatever
minute
that minute
be,
even the
last,
even
the first

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