One long line from finger to hip.|
Spokes of light in slow rotation,
a flick and a
drop your whole body drop.
Someone cradles your head.
He rocks you, wets your face and cleans you.
Maddened by the chill in your skin.
he jags left to right,
exploring in manic geometry
the way you kissed
the way you worried movement into meaning
and the way he found you,
glowing like beach sand at night,
one last rhythm wild in your chest:
© 2008 Siddhartha
(All rights reserved)