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HPIM1555©Shawn Nacona Stroud

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You are a bruising apple
that dangles near
the end of my limb.
My hold on you weakens
with the whistled pushes of wind.
Soon I’ll lose my grip:
a thunk on the ground
at my feet. Love finishes
like a season
that freezes once it’s complete.

©Shawn Nacona Stroud
♦This poem was previously published in the Winter 2009 issue of Up the Staircase.

HPIM1549

©Shawn Nacona Stroud

Currituck Lighthouse 2

©Shawn Nacona Stroud

Moonlight paints us into corpses
as we lie tangled in bed. I cling to you
like a boy clings to his teddy bear
in darkness, listen
to crickets shake their rattles
over the splash of cars passing
through rain puddles. All night
I lie awake with you
relearning the curves of your flesh,
the satin brush of your hair, devour
your cologne as it rises like steam
from your skin. I hold
you until the moon is through—
when sunlight brushes flesh tones on me,
but leaves the gray tinge of an effigy on you.

©Shawn Nacona Stroud

♦This poem previously appeared in Issue 8 of Mississippi Crow Magazine.

Body Island Lighthouse

©Shawn Nacona Stroud

August 2009
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