Sometimes we sit, alone
in the rimming moon. Our sighs move upward,
quelling cares that rise like smoke and buffeting our hands
with the bones of night.
Sometimes we sit, alone
in the startling dusk. Light-profusions
scamper like wayward souls and tickle our bones
with tales of mourning love.
Sometimes we sit, alone
in the meddling dawn. Mid-sentence laughing
from brooklet stars too shy for dancing
when noon arrives, shirtless and boasting.
Sometimes we sit, alone,
together in maudlin midnight’s tepid kiss, too quickly
passing to pass from view without leaving
her mark of satisfied leavings.
Sometimes we sit, alone
in the rimming moon. We compare eyes
and glance knowingly beyond
what they normally see: the other.
Painting, “Anam Cara” by Lynn Weekes Karegeanneas
Rob's Lit-Bits 
Second stanza is the best. Just a thought – is there a way to express your idea in the 4th without reusing the word ‘pass’?
“passing…pass” and “leaving…leavings” are meant to act as couplets in this stanza. Maybe it wasn’t as effective as I’d hoped?
I will reread it. It felt initially like the second pass wasn’t as strong a choice as it could have been. I’ll get back to you…
Either way, thanks for weighing in, Melody!
I looked at it again, and it still hits me that way. I think it’s because ‘passing from view’ says it just as well as ‘passing to pass from view’. It stops the flow for me. ? I’m pretty presumptuous, I know. 😉
Cool. Lemme reconsider and it’ll be my turn to get back to you! Thanks, and no presumption at all. Artistic considerations are always good!