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.
Monday, August 15, 2011
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Tickle your toes. . .
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This is gorgeous - so sensual and still at the same time. Love it.
ReplyDeleteFrom tactile to the abstract; what a wonderful relationship.
ReplyDeletethanks! ;)
ReplyDeleteWhat did he mean by that? (kidding) Lovely writing! I enjoyed this one very much.
ReplyDeleteHere's my offering for Potluck 48: http://charleslmashburn.wordpress.com/2011/08/14/the-lake/
smart one.
ReplyDeletelove the message behind.