To My Leaf Storm

To My Leaf Storm

Don’t fear my touch.

Sustenance from windmills

slowly gathers around our skin:

leaves never fall,

fragments spiralling into your smile,

tears humidifying our lips.

Don’t whisper to an alien ear.

Look away to my lap,

brush my breast.  Edges sooth

the tip of a finger on my back,

deeper fragments.

Don’t list the possibilities.

Keep stretching our secret.

Swim in my hair, flaunt

your smile on my torso,

until the fragments and the leaves

come to a sudden stop.

© Sergio A. Ortiz 2009, first published in All Rights Reserved a literary journal. Issue, Margin of Error, 2010