Monday, August 15, 2011

secrets

our silence comes easy
and there is much to it
the commingling of our fingers
and the swapping of palm oils
and the nimble saltation of fingertips
it says so much.
and yet you stare at my neck
and say that my throat is the
home of a chorus of birds
and such harmonies never allow
for secrets.

5 comments:

  1. This is gorgeous - so sensual and still at the same time. Love it.

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  2. From tactile to the abstract; what a wonderful relationship.

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  3. What did he mean by that? (kidding) Lovely writing! I enjoyed this one very much.

    Here's my offering for Potluck 48: http://charleslmashburn.wordpress.com/2011/08/14/the-lake/

    ReplyDelete

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