Gold and Honey

I remember
your warm skin,
like gold and honey,
dripping against
my tongue’s tip.

Again. Again.


the heat
and popping oak,
embers trace an arc
through escaping smoke,
and burn

into the woven folds
of discarded blankets.

I saw a tendril of steam,
as it rose. Sweat-soaked
cotton, singed at the edge,
flickers. It glows.

This was a mistake,
but in my heart,
I know,

I will remember
the taste of honey,
of you, and of gold,
decades apart,
and forever-on.

May I find, again,
such cavernous sin,
between echoing gasps
and the glistening
of golden hopes.

©️ CG Tenpenny, 2023.

Image by David Hofmann.

One thought on “Gold and Honey

Leave a Reply