


CARVING UP THE MOON
We took the night,
seasoned it well,
then sliced it thin
with razor-like kisses
that were sharp and clean
as cold steel.
We took the stars,
crushed them fine,
then sprinkled them
each on the other
and tasted their sparkle
with hungry eyes.
It was a night
for feasting,
and slaking old thirsts
and we supped long and well
then carved up the moon
for dessert.
Copyright © Mike Billington, 1999
mcbillin@email.msn.com

CURVE
You are the soft curve of Chaos
bending away from lockstep
regularity
into uncharted regions
where light is so bright
it grows dim
and life can be good
despite all evidence
to the contrary
on rainy days
and cold nights
when even the dark
would rather stay in bed.
You are the quiet noise
of promises shouted
heart to heart
across those distances
of time and space
that matter most
when love is at stake
and souls at risk
of crumbling
'neath the weight
of longing.
Copyright © Mike Billington, 1999
mcbillin@email.msn.com

SMALL SOUNDS
Your bare feet padding
across the hotel room carpet
and the soft sigh you let escape
when you thought
I could not hear...
these are the small sounds
of love and dreams
on a honeymoon
that never was
but might have been.
The rustle of your hair
as my fingers play through it
and the raindrop-on-the-window sound
our lips make when they part
after a long kiss
that was still too brief...
these are the little sounds that
are the bridge between
the larger sounds of love.
I love the small sounds of us
just after dawn...
the morning-paper-two-cups-of-coffee sounds
that speak both of love
and a life that might have been
if only we had met before
we began singing our separate songs.
Copyright © Mike Billington, 1999
mcbillin@email.msn.com

YOUR SMILE ON A TUESDAY MORNING
Your smile,
wide as yesterday,
deep as tomorrow,
and tomorrow again,
kissed open my eyes
as I lay sleeping
on the pillows scattered
like fallen rocks
across our bed:
Awake, I smiled back
in silent communion
and thought not of tomorrow
nor of yesterday,
nor of yesterdays long past,
but only of your smile
on a certain Tuesday morning
when life was good;
rich,
ready for the taking;
sweet,
ready for the tasting.
Copyright © Mike Billington, 1999
mcbillin@email.msn.com

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