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,
pregnant
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.
Rooted in Love 