I wonder what verses
the moon is tattooing
on our flesh with its shadow pen.
Does it really matter?
Your hands murmur poetry
and I know the language they speak.
It is ancient.. universal.. carnal…
My body responds in exclamation
to the love sonnet yours speaks against mine.
Adrift on a breathy ocean
we let time splash among the stars
and ignore daylight will soon arrive
to edit moonlit shadows.
©Susie Clevenger 2013
Comments
--that language we are all born knowing, yet so few seem to speak it to us.
to edit moonlit shadows.
…oh, I hope not too much will need to be edited - Just lovely! I adore the same lines as Hedgewitch.
K
Excellent response, Susie.