My Skin's Tint
One summer, I read the poems
of alabaster hands
So smooth the words -
white whispers in the night
I took in the fragrant, gentle breeze
of sonnets bursting with romance
and tastes, promises no one keeps
My thirsty eyes became moist
with moonlight, my lips pearled
with critical opalescence -
My skin's tint, pale - green
and saffron yellow
I beaded and glossed
myself with dawn
oh, but silence breaks the night
and pierces deep the ear
Poetry and wine turns like dreams
to dust - fills the cup
with speckled air
I dream with a deadline, tho'
the moment of wounded joy
has left and yet, to sleep ...
I must wrap inside myself
and keep hold to anything
that remains
of sweet scent and beauty
Empty arms cradle knees to rock
and I will hum, write, sing - sweet words
until I feel the distant warmth
closer to the coming day
Deborah Russell,
12:24
03-09-05
Fort Collins, Co (don't ask why)
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