after braiding quicksilver
across our steaming skins,
whispers stilled for sleeping,
eyes closed quiet, I turn to look at you,
like I always do.
your form fixed, silent waves of wood
polished gleaming by the moonlight,
one arm sloped to shield from stars,
modesty made foolish by the heat tonight.
and I dream through open eyes
of lives beginning without endings,
like I always do.
Fritz Eifrig has been writing poems on and off for several decades. He has been published in Poetry Quarterly, and the Hiram Poetry Review. He lives and works in Chicago.
Foxglove Journal 