Alicia Jones Poetry

Summer sunshine at the cusp of spring filtered through the leaves on that tree outside my window, to settle lightly between the furrows of your brows,
A lifetime of worries past etched in shadows of your bones.
The hazy late-afternoon light captured in an endearing clarity in the warmth of your smile-creased brown eyes,
The feeling of the day settling in the bow of your lips, and then on mine.
The mellifluousness that the season promises nibbles on our ears, sweeps across my neck, it sings as I tell you another story in gestures,
Our hands weaving through conversations like dancers- searching for another way to express the spaces what words will never reach.
Who knew that humans could be so… so sweet?