About Love, Truth, and Bones

Looking at you my gaze become morning,
my voice, the twittering in a nest,
and my body wishes for a quiet place
resting like a comma upon your chest

If you want me, tell me now,
while spring lives in me,
when my eyes still smile
and spread flames of poetry

Stay with me a little longer
while time, in its brevity, still allows us
and our laughter, full of energy,
has the reminiscence of summer rain

Tomorrow I am still beside you,
and when spring turns winter
place your hands upon my face
--you’ll find less bone and more truth.

--Bernadete vdw, ‘25