Free Verse # 284 (finding the poet)

My fingers in her hair
a wind in the forest
playing amid the trees,
strumming her branches
into a floral cascade
on bare shoulders splashing


Passing shadows –
from the essence of form
a dark flower blooms,
her black scent
diluting all boundaries
in the heady source of light.


 So much passion spilled
on the altar of her
whose name is ocean,
whose eyes are sky,
whose face is the stillness
of dawn over the sea.


Finding the poet –
a flower becomes a star,
then a moon,
then vanishes in his heart.


Her body is made for worshipping ~
with every kiss I unfold
a flower in her skin
and a freckle made of wine
shining like a purple star.


As through a poetry book
he leafed through her skin
and the poems flowed in streams
of a dark purple wine


Heady with his wine
she tilted her head
and her body curved,
a wheat-blade
in the moonlight,
a samurai sword
slashing the wind
and cutting through
his very heart.


I expect your kiss
to graze my skin
as though you were clouds
drifting through the skies,
ever slowly, deeper and deeper engulfing me
in the billowing bank of white.

One thought on “Free Verse # 284 (finding the poet)

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