Monday, 25 March 2013

All places I'm home






You take me places
the crescent moons of your nails
on my soft nightskin.

 

I ask no questions,
follow, get into tunnels
of quilled silk silence

 

in tongues and navels
I escape into hollows
where no light reaches

 

electric fingers
fade into blissed out darkness
and there too I’m home.





 

2 comments:

  1. nice...darkness can be home to me as well...nice textures in this...the nails and skin, the moon and night...lots of passion in those middle two stanzas as well...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Darkness always sits better in a metaphor for me than light somehow, richer and more comforting. Thank you for being here.

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