denied

Silver shadows stalk in stillness.
what is closed yields.
and i feel you there,
at the crux
soiled stones washed free in wind and rain...

(the brook bubbling like the lava
that heats it deep within.)

My leg still curves across your body
in dreams contained, frozen Tupperware solid

and the trees whisper,
"we peaked through your windows that night."
taunting, deliberate leaves shaking their laughter at our folly.