Free Verse # 351 (the prophecy of her skin)

Mad with the prophecy
Of your skin
My hands prowl
The streets of the night,
My fingers coursing
Like burning rivers
Into your womb
Of poetry.


In each woman
A hidden core spins
Birthing the whole world.
To touch a woman is to live
In its velvet mystery.


O cloistered heart,
However high its walls
No garden is hidden
From bee and butterfly.


Kfarhay, March 13, 2016
Kfarhay, Batroun, Lebanon, March 13, 2016

All the roads spread
From the root source
Of her heart.
Traveling I always
Roamed through her veins,
Swam in her blood.


We have not met
But at night
My dreams and hers
And rain in showers
Of breathless stars.


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