TheFeatheredSleep – Beauty seen, sensed, desired
If her heart were a drum
it would be outlawed for beating too loud
for the insistent and unwary pound
keeping wakeful when those who rest
wish for silence
beneath her is a lake of feeling
if a mime enacted, his black cloth fingers
would grow numb with gesticulation
his elbows fatigued from the shapes
her wordless passion smacked into
taut skin
trembling at the imagining of her
proximity
she breaks a sweat on the fine hair of her neck
a necklace of pearl and moonstone
for each sway of her fruiting body
she is the picker of her sanity
a welcome devil in empty playground
she blinks into darkness, seeing futures
in one, she is swimming in dark water
the stars illuminating only her want
reaching shore, she searches for her among shadows
trying to imagine the way she feels
naked and shaking off
the spill of her longing
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cabbagesandkings524 