I toast you in silence,
watching you sleep,
as an occasional smile
scurries across your face,
seeing an element of
sacredness in this
you seem untouchable,
yet my hands ache
with the longing of
an arthritic for balm
to connect, to slide
from the cap to the bushfire place,
softness being the path.
I roast you in laughter
tossing against the crackle
of ribbed play,
legacy enriched
in each movement
spun
as only delicacy become known
with acute awareness
learnt by time.
Seasoning
shakes leaves and
absences that blend
to glide
upon oceans
and slide
each other’s tease
simmering…
always together,
quietly
to land deeply,
steady
in shelter
laid down
being
instinctive touch.
Herbs ‘n Planz
a co-write from
(Emancipation Planz & Herbert Nehrlich)
