Free Verse # 409 (the breath of a candle)

My touch in her skin…
the breath of a candle
whispering to the stars


Ce que la nuit étouffe, l’amour rallumera  – instinct du poète.


To touch her
with the heart of poetry ;
to touch her
and hear the poem
go silent,
with the light of dawn.


Love is a state that wants to be secure in its vulnerability.


In the silence
I am painting you again,
brush dipped
in the tea breath,
pen in the ink
of a thousand kissing lovers.


In the fading light of dusk
as the fog trembled
like a blanket over the forest
a deer came and went swiftly
and my startled heart
found itself again
inside the poetry


La soie de sa peau,
le feu de mon encre –
promesse de poésie


The fingers of the night
strum her dark hair,
with each plucked string
the jasmine scent wafts
and goes everywhere, everywhere.


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