like a hand that holds an ankle,
I felt powerful in your arms
this dancing, this pointed push, this bygone cloud.
with my face in your belly- I curled myself inside
a spinning, dizzied head with girl-hair flying.
raining. droplets squeal and suckle mother pane. wash it clean.
Darling, hearths awaken inside of here,
and outside chilly winds dispute,
your warmth undying, I do not drift.
I swim in tears to your willowy shore.
depart from this-haphazard nonsense-
I am clinging to your trunk.
and I will only point to clouds
silent, white, and empty.
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Tickle your toes. . .
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Poets United Contributor
Is this present - is this past?
ReplyDeleteEvocative nonetheless.
it is the present-past ;)
ReplyDelete