The memory of your touch
Resides between my fingers
When you with your hair undone
Are born again
Naked and fragile, like
A ball of yarn
Ready to unwind.
The touch of your feet
Is a waking dream
A walk on the clouds
The ocean floor.
The touch of your lips
Is petal dew
As fresh as a leaf
Full as a summer fruit
Smooth, like riverbed rocks
That shimmer at night.
To touch your hands
Is to feel the soul of a traveler
A map of hidden fortunes
Where the lines are all blurred.
The hint of your dream
Is another step in
An open crevasse
That vanishes
As we wake.
And soon
Your back uncoils
Like a lazy river,
You cut me with the star of your skin
Burn me with your fever.
And I am left in search of a face
Before your voice returns
With a name for me.
If
We can
Travel
Through
Silence
We can
Speak
Just
The same.
4 comments:
Good Job on your word choices.
I love the pictures you paint with your words.
Keep up the great work.
Sincerely,
Doug
. i don't know why but i'm instantly reminded of .eby. ... perhaps because he actually lives in silence ... not that i'd know ... anyway, i think that you redefine artistic excellence here ... the images are mind-numbing ... i'm almost startled to see a new hue of passion ... my only hope is that the end has been written with a stark consciousness ... (http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/edhart7/545427/) ... (http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/edhart7/535609/) ... only as i tend to err on the side of caution ... else this is a scintillating piece of poetry ... it ensnares ... :) ...
- serah
Thanks Poetdug for the lovely, beautiful comment and Serah, i was blown away by the comment you posted here...so sorry i didnt reply before, if you keep commenting on my works, i promise to keep writing! Have a nice day, cheers! :)
To touch your hands
Is to feel the soul of a traveler
A map of hidden fortunes
Where the lines are all blurred.
I love how you just string the words together. seamless. :)
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