Free Verse # 347 (in her skin I confide my poetry)

En de moments simples
Quand l’aube est une prière
Sa voix bat ses ailes
Et je deviens un feu
S’élançant vers elle
Comme un vin amoureux
De ses lèvres vermeilles

~

Her freckled skin
a sky full of stars
and I
a white bearded sailor
who spent his whole life
reading their orbits
to walk through the world

~

No one hears me,
and as this poem falls silent
my heart blooms open
into a flower made of ice.

~

These lines
penned with blood
for whom do they flower?
On lonely pathways
the falling dusk
strokes my shattered heart.

~

All alone
in a house of shadows,
yesterday’s lights fading
as the night
with a wounded mouth
sears my body with ache
for her who never comes.

~

In her skin
I confide my poetry,
the murmur
of its white essence
in her veins flowing
a silence deeper
than the sky of dawn.

~

Her breath the seashell
where my poem curls,
when I inhale
I take her in,
when I sigh behold
she is the whole sky.

~

In her heart
I go,
a boat
behind far horizons
sailing,
in her clouded breaths
vanishing,
eclipsed
in her land
of no return.

~

My fingertips stroke
the hem of your light
and my heart falls silent
as my poem fills
with the marrow of your voice

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s