Something about moonlight

XII

Skin on skin. Everything shivers.
I want to press my hand .flat.
against your stomach
And lap at your collarbones.

Instead gloved fists hide,
Stuffed and balled into deep pockets
They are stony and round as the pebbles
Tripping up my thinly-clad feet.

We have come to the cobbled shore,
Guided by the full moon,
To hold hands through woollen coats
And look at the just-clear sky.

The moon hangs still,
a gilded light in a vast, empty room,
And I marvel at the texture of the water,
Crumpled silver stretching out to another continent.

On the edge of land, sea and space, we peer
Outward. I am thinking of the moon and Saturn,
Satellites spinning in the wilderness. I feel anchored,
Suddenly, heavy and safe with my stony hands and solid feet.

Weightlessness returns with the desire for warmth and,
Safe from the gravity again m
y frozen feet and hands remember
The warmth of us together, curled under the mirror,
Making everything shiver again.

By no means perfect, especially the final stanza, but given that it’s been worked on all day on an off between desk shifts, I think it has some hope!
Expecting to edit, though.

Fixed. Yay. Now for a title…

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