Matthew Berkshire

Matthew Berkshire Mar 2015

You were a summer snow,
unexpected and electric.
You warmed me
in the depths of winter,
so when you fell
into the ether
no bitterness resounded.

Should you chance
upon these stony shores again
you’d find me on the wuthered
cliffs
where I wait for thee.

Matthew Berkshire Mar 2015

Anne

The winter wind kissed my cheek
as I walked into the world.
The snow crunched underfoot,
but I paused in the clearing
to see the last full moon of winter
perfect between the trees.
I stood in the soft light
solitary and with love in my eyes
as my breath blocked the view.

#moon #hope #winter

Matthew Berkshire Mar 2015

Erin

In the vagueness of twilight,
your blonde hair sparkling
in the moon and rising sun
all at once;
smiling an exquisite smile
veiled by memory,
tinged by dreams.

By and by as the new dawn
pierced me with greeting
blustery tendrils of frost,
warmth emanated green
from your catlike eyes,
generous and feral
awakening my soul.

I basked in your spirit,
and in the deepness of winter
I suddenly felt alive,
longing to breathe your smile
to taste your fire...

Matthew Berkshire Mar 2015

Softly Into the Moonlight

Dark notes of cinnamon,
and smoke
from your lip gloss
radiate off my tongue,
piercing the night.

I close my eyes
inhaling deeply,
to hold the specter of the scent
closer.

I yearn to breathe in your body,
but you had already
slipped through my grasp
fading like fog
softly into the moonlight.

Matthew Berkshire Jan 2015

Loneliness

I thought I knew loneliness,
but that morning
when I discovered
that your toothbrush
had disapeered
was truly
the first time that I had met her

Matthew Berkshire Jan 2015

Cayenne and Lemon

My breath fogged the window,
as I watched the snow fall
softly.
I
heard your feet drag
as you walked over the cow-skin rug;
feeling your eyes burning through my back
I kept my own glued to the somnolent scene outside
whilst I felt your resentment grow stronger and more absolute,
like a baby crocodile as it finally concludes that its purpose is to ****.
You walked into the kitchen, your anger tasting of cayenne and lemon
My deep exhale fogged up the window once again,
and my pupils dilated as I remembered
that we are one entity.
You are mine.
I am yours.
Yours.
Mine.
We.
I.

Matthew Berkshire Jan 2015

And His Hair Was Perfect

I found the devil on the corner of Canal and Chartres.
A gleam in his eye, and smelling of French aftershave.
The echo of my footsteps resounding sharply
off the wet Louisiana cobblestones.
He beckoned me closer
whilst a woman with large feathers on her dress
and a snake draped over her shoulders
came to stand next to him.
She had spice in her soul, and rouge on her lips.
Satan smiled at me then.
There was blood on his lips, and his hair was perfect.