The Sensuality of Leaves

The silence between us
is the anticipation of trees’ leaves
for an autumn’s night’s breeze.
They wait for us to breathe
our words into them.

The rustle of the leaves
is the whisper of intimate voices,
our lips near to touching
as syllables are breathed
onto the other’s skin.

A hand resting on skin
is the lighting of a leaf onto the
earth still warm from the day.
The cool leaf takes in the
sun the ground offers it.

The cool leaf, warmed by touch
is our skins’ flush as whispered words and cool
touches quicken our hearts.
A yearning fills and pulls
and into it we fall.


About Cary

I write, more nonfiction than fiction lately, and that's mainly because I started a podcast about the history and culture of Brazil. Reading for that is dominating my reading time too - as you might have guessed. I'm an American expat who lives in southern Brazil. Aside from history, reading and podcasting, I enjoy cooking, hiking and improving my Portuguese. I teach English for a living. View all posts by Cary

3 responses to “The Sensuality of Leaves

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