A texture of flour coating her skin ashy, she’d say, her body shifting as if to rise but just as happy pressed gently into the bed my fingers spread across the cushion of her belly and tickling a glissando over the peaks of her hip bones
I begin to paint tongue as a brush and lips smooth sponges taking away the flavorless dust of her long day leeching care and anxiety thigh to ankle stretching her body as a sailor might stretch a rope before binding it around a rudder
some journeys have no course just as my design upon her has no center just a desire to bring out the bronze burnish from her recumbent form expose her beauty in impermanent lines and maybe strand a mole or papilla in a moat of my yearning
eventually an end to art must come, the timbre of her breath spatters off the wall a first salvo of a storm of a hurricane its terrible swell started well out to sea and rushing to sweep us both away
a poet from Seattle Washington USA. His poetry has appeared in print in publications such as Bellowing Ark, Point Nopoint, and most recently in Contraposition magazine. When not writing poetry he is a Human Resources professional, a repentant glutton, and a novelist specializing in the weird-fiction genre.
Never we value what God has blessed We value for what God has not blessed We are often not happy with our progress We feel unhappy about others progress We don’t understand what happiness is all about We understand what
Nothing in life is free! Everything, be it- Love, Work, Friendship All incurs a cost. Nothing in life is free! Love- the dose for sustenance Requires a fidel give and take. Nothing in life is free! Work- the dire necessity