“LINGERING, OR THE WORLD ENDS IN THIS WAY”

We linger at table and chair,
on cobblestone street,
in the gaze of a great shagbark.
Yes, like a perfume
the beloved lingers in the mind.
Like wind, the beloved is carried,
swept away across mountains and plains.

In this waiting the tender sun warms my flesh,
I am to be drowned in fragrance

— Josephine can be found on Twitter and sometimes Substack.