A Few Haiku

Parched, pink, supple skin

tastes of salt and strawberry.

Like countless late nights.


Fingers dance as one –

mirrored hands like those around

us. We are ghosts here.


Soft moans carry sound

through tepid summer nights. You

birth fire* to the air.


© Audrey Rosengreen, 2019



*I understand the ambiguity of the word fire being used as both a one syllable word or two. In this case it’s one… so it fits of course. : P