Even the wind’s whistling halts in mid-air to take heed of the sky beams magnetically drawn to you.
Piercing through the hushing air like a monofilament, you remain still.
Your arrival inescapable,
your unfolding heart everlasting.
It’s been a strange, sticky summer
it took your honeyed smile to see that the astringency of sorts is merely passing,
bites don’t leave marks, not unless permitted.
still so very tender, but healing is immediate, if permitted.