1/25/17

Whenever you wear white...

The letters of your name start mixing themselves
around in my mind;
making me mumble my notorious nonsense
The pigment of your lipstick matches that of your nipples
I feel a breeze where none exists
The ghost of your smile dances all about you
And, even when you cry, I know to trust
that you are happy
Your kisses come, strung up with words
My ring shines on your finger,
the way I remembered knowing that it would
You tend to smell like coffee beans
Your short legs are smooth and ripe,
like spring rain
The whites of your eyes are burgeoning red vines,
like candy canes in bloom;
growing, forever closer, toward your earthy irises
I taste the air which sustained you
long enough to know another moment of lucky enough
to be feeling you exhale in my flushed face
Where did you come from?
Where are you going?
Surprise me with everything but
the beginning and the end
For you are the gold which feeds my rainbow
Every hue that’s draped over you
cannot summarize your radiance
And if angels do exist, then mine is missing her wings
You slide those plumes around your curves,
and I am (stiff as a feather, light as a board)
ready to have you revealed to me again;
as though our first time has not yet ended

Poetry from POETiCA by Shane Windham
E-book and paperback now on Amazon.com

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