This burning that bleeds to hold you
for some gentle touch
to light again the spark - -
and I finger softly
the edge of words you
left behind
in this black night
that pulls me from this place

with graceful movement

I turn my head
wondering
if you are there

knowing

it is only memory
woven in ages &some
desire to paint
my eyes
on your bare back
which blends each line
of us together
against the green

perhaps of me too, he paints
pondering the direction of light
finding something beautiful
to place on simple glass


Still untouched of breath
that left us in dance
amidst the gray night


at the edge of river
as I touched that part of you
I begin to softly cry

remembering:


the slip of my name
that flowed across your tongue

It is simply amazing how different all of our styles are. For instance, when I read your work I look at my own and think it is rough and shapeless. You are a simply wonderful artist and I enjoy the journeys that your poetry takes me on. I appreciate you sharing them with all of us. Not only has my own writing be like a free therapy, but reading others has been maginificent as well.

Nikki

thanks again nikki..

misty..

wow, I can see the tear dopping from your cheek during those last few lines. such reality and emotion.