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...

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    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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