Eavesdroppers

Your whispers
dance in
frolicking
rhythms,

sleepy as snow

and sometimes
like cajoling coffee,
thawing
the crammed last-night dreams
Musty drawers
of my mind

with a brimful of sunlight
dust
the dregs
of dried fantasy

Real as a pinch
on my sallow skin
your lips
linger
rubbing my ear. I

cannot make out the words,
just the warm you
circuiting the maze like a seasoned explorer

I wonder
if you’re teasing or simply
cautious of the
silence

of the crows
and trees on
tiptoe

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