Rivulets line the vale of skin, life claws like a felt moth
through tendon and flesh chrysalis.
From shards of marble, proportion -
out of divine metacarpal, symmetry -
chaos unveils curves, wrist to elbow,
shoulder to waist beauty tumbles
from the deep cup of feminine.
The palm of God's infinite vase
hands me a pretty flower,
gem petaled warmth pulled to my face,
pulsing with the fragrance of repose.
Breath makes a slight ripple in stone
and my eye, sharp as a diamond chisel
burrows beneath the long slow kiss.
I hear the flame buried in her belly,
gather the side long glance, lick the
shivers echoing from finger tips
and meld with what I know to be
the face of my eternal love.
end/Michael
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