These words are dust on paper

These words are dust on paper,

The chemistry of love, loss and desire, of things unsettled;

Weightless questions unformed, queries made alone in silent, empty rooms,

like breath spoken to a dark ceiling in those broken sleepless hours.

 

There is weight in your kiss of my bare shoulder,

In the wispy brush of my finger along the small of your back,

the anticipation of touch in soft places;

of wetness and salty taste lingering on a probing tongue.

 

Scattered now, on whose fingers will this dust settle,

To whose cheeks and lips transferred?

Whose heart will know these tracings?

Gather them.

About michaelstephendaigle

I have been writing most of my life. I have written at least three complete novels, have three others started and on my website michaelstephendaigle.com is the draft chapter of the latest effort,"The Swamps of Jersey."
This entry was posted in Fiction, Imzadi Publishing LLC, Michael Stephen Daigle, Poetry and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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