- Serendipitously, Darling
- Folded wings of You
- Ink on the Thigh
- Hunger Between Us
- Where Stars Lean
Your fingertips trace lines I can feel,
even before they touch,
a language of whispers,
dark as the quiet hours
between night and first light.
Each stroke is deliberate,
a map of longing
that I follow
without question.
When your hand reaches
the place where breath breaks,
I am already unfolded,
the ink of you
staining me
in ways the world will never see.
As the fat lady sings, the ink is an opera of one person’s aria.
Your metaphor settles gently. I appreciate the way you framed it. 😉
this is breathtaking Sue ❤️
Thank you, truly. I’m glad the piece breathed for you. 🙂
Chère G.,
I don’t have to add anything to make this more to the point.
But it prompted me to write a Chorus for a song in a completely other direction. And in Dutch I might add.
Don’t think I’ll post it, but if and when, I’ll ask for your permission first and mention you as co-writer.
You see? Maybe unintentionally/unaware you caused small waves in the pond.
Love your poem, needless to say.
Warm regards, Gus
Reminds me of a card that someone would leave for their lover, as a reminder of how you feel. It doesn’t always take a lot of words to say a lot. This is a good example of that. Well done.