White bark tree.

I visit our haunt,
In dreams.
Running through,
Yellow leaves.

Barely night.

Holding each other,
Close to one another,
We move.
In our solitude,
A moody nocturne,
In the minor key,
Of whispers and talks.

When noise only,
Becomes so lonely,
This space,
A trunk’s dark lines,
Branch and air,
You are home.

My unfurling,
Against a white poplar,
Feeling between,
The rough and soft,
Towering tall.

Kissing, touching,
Bare skin raw,
Holding tight.
Explaining to one other,
In our language,
Our love.
Bent over me,
Praying out loud,
Our names,
Under a white bark tree.

Before I wake.

When you must leave,
Land,
Promise,
We’ll return again,
Guiding me,
Hand in hand.
Leading,
Smiling,
To our private,
Only ours,
Sacred ground.

Between Jerusalem and Mexico, a taboo love.