you're each and every magic

Whisper incantations into my neck and bury them under the vulnerable skin there

Spring and your departure is a lot closer this side of an endless year.

Endless I wish our time, a Lazy Susan that always brings me back to standing in front of you, phone in trembling hand, afraid to connect as the earthquakes in my voice betray the depths of Lake Chelan behind my teeth.
No real beaches.
Nowhere to wade into, just jump.

I just want fall park walks in the crisp shine with you, even if our only contact is gloved hand-to-gloved hand or a cautious embrace that melts into comfort (arms knowing where they fit, elbows in the crooks of elbows, chin on the shoulder).

It hits a zenith, now, maybe only the first one, when everything and everyone else is exposed.
When weaknesses are skinned alive.
When the comfort of corner top-floor windows and uninvited magic hour light tints us pink and purple and gold and fire.

It is a pipe dream marinated in apples and wine.

Endless I wish our time, a flat circle that always brings me back to you.