Monday, January 29, 2007

Until Features Merge

I am brushed through You
Washed over Your face
until features merge
from in-between appearance.
You keep a negligee
of light about You.
You paint the suggestion
of a curving softness.
A plush eroticism
as tactile as velvet.
Ravens wings
fly over my skin
as if the night were Your kiss.
We pray together
hands reaching
for their own fingers.
Sometimes I break down
before I can speak;
I must chew the silence
just to taste
what You have said
within my words.
Painting: Twilight in the garden
by Dan Goozee (C) 2005
Artist and mage can be found at-