Anam Cara

Anam Cara

She would sing
With eyes closed
And her body undulate
Like growing things
In a shallow river bed
Below clean water.

She spoke more to me
With her eyes
Than she ever did
Through language.

Her touch was ethereal
And though years
Have spun me away
Seems I feel her hand
Yet in mine.

She invited me
To sunsets
Thunderheads
And snowy village walks.

She was scented in vanilla
And, below her tongue, was the honeycomb.

She was just here
A moment ago.

She never left
But gave so much
Of herself
I live off the excess
Of her grace 

Soulful beauty
Charm
And lingering shadow.

True lovers never leave.

Even their absence
Is occupied with the presence.