past kiss

moments tell 

its not time

and then it seems

that rhyme fleeting fell from lips

poised in doubt

though hot

would tear

through skins

so wrapped in paper envelopes

and written 

with spider silks and indian ink

i sent it up in little aeroplanes

across the fields

a distance flew and fell

 my hands catch it now

long time

the  crayon scribbled

little pictures

of this forget

paint it black to see it shine

the slip streams

of lighter air through

fevered dreams as yet

a promise

kept

another time

when skins crinkled over lines

your palm

in red

your hand

holds

mine.