tell me the words
sitting at the back of your throat…
the ones yearning for exposure
aching to be naked at your feet
bathed in moonlight and mist
shadow dancing upon dewy moss
as hope awaits a tender kiss
press the petals of ancient roses
long fallen from their vine
their seductive scent just as potent
against this thundering heart of mine
where your touch stirs my hungry blood
show me the script upon the crypt
of every ghost you’ve laid to rest
words etched where they now reside
and how fireflies light the inside
within the cavity of your chest
make a space for me
within your hollows
and I will huddle beside your pain
caressing it with loving fingers
until it slumbers…
and slowly drifts away
One word lady, ‘tight’
You have,in the way you write, the magic that stops the reader in their tracks and compels them to ponder then re read.
It’s a gift you have.
Terrific example of what I mean.
🙏