Emptied

If,
in your memory
the thought of my touch
no longer reminds your
skin of me,
then throw me to the wind
so whatever is left of me
leaves your heart and
I will be mine
once more.

@ @

© Oisin

Dishabille

The wind caresses
your nakedness entices
shrouds my shadow

@ @

I remember.


Naked Haiku, of course made that up.