Her Misty Spirit Kisses His Fleshy Being

A Pressure Against His Lips, and Then…

Image created by Nour Boustani using Midjourney — Thank you, Nour! :)

in the dim place where day has yet to break
there’s a whisper of a presence, a form that should be there but isn’t
flesh hums with a soul’s fading note…
he tastes the dew in the air, waiting (patient)
for her, that almost something (he’s sure, he’s unsure)
she comes like the scent of earth after rain…