To lose you, it is nothing to lose you, <br />to stand only in the rain of you, <br />the rain that falls only from you, <br />from the bottom of your hair. <br />To lose you in the deep yellow <br />of wild anise, to lose you, to climb <br />down your heavy rain, it is nothing. <br />And to touch you, the rim and depth <br />of you, the lightest fold, the darkest hair, <br />the beating wing of the skin we can never see. <br />To lose you, and to be raised in the absence <br />of you, into the rain that replaces you, the pleasure <br />that precedes and surpasses either of us. It is nothing <br />to lose you, and to speak with you as it happens, <br />to sense the years grown toward this one loss <br />complete themselves as we talk. And to run <br />my hands over you, to let my hands <br />drift over your eyes and over your back <br />which is like a powerful sunflower stalk <br />from which it seems your body opens.<br /><br />Doren Robbins<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fallen-petals-love-poem/
