The eye sees silk,
watered green perhaps,
hanging loose over
oiled bamboo, and waits
for a breath to set it floating.
A sail slowly calling to the skin,
conjuring weightless cover
settling without fanfare,
suddenly warm when it rests
on cheek, or arms, or flanks,
then sparking shivers as
a hand pulls it slowly away.
May 9, 2018 at 2:55 pm
Lovely image.
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May 10, 2018 at 11:47 pm
Hello Susan, thank you. This started off as a poem about sensual foods, and took its own route!
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