Earth

Skin touching skin
fingertips tracing
the warm darkness
of tired lovers.

Nestled deep into beds
birds are asleep
their songs are fading
into the soft echoes of night.

Like the painter regards the subject.
Running small, soft hands
across the canvas of her body
hungry, unafraid
searching for meaning,
potential.

Mountains, valleys and rivers,
woman is Earth.
She rumbles and quakes,
turns with seasons,
waxes and wanes with the moon.

In the drought she waters
in the cold she warms
she is soft like spring sun
she is life, tucked away compact.

Woman drifts into salty sleep,
Women wrap up nicely into one another

1 Comment

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s