Summernight Sadness-

My mouth doesn’t taste like salt-water, anymore.

This doesn’t change anything.

My hands have held hearts
and left them torn in two

My hands have known absence,
held those who are gone from  this world, never to come back.

I am still stuck between  September and July.

My skin, still stained in
summer as these wolves  grow hungry for the rain.

My body, still standing  in the doorway, waiting.