Touch me

POSTED IN contemporary poetry January 25, 2014

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Touch me

We curl round each other
like fragile fronds,
safe in our womb of darkness.

Feathered finger tips
explore the surface of our skin,
trace each worn trail gently,
smoothing and moulding;
we relax into wordless sleep.

Somewhere in our dreams
we stir once more,
a tendril of fear uncoils
in the darkness,
threatens to divide us.

 
A whimper escapes my throat;
you nuzzle me and I press
into your warmth, loving
the shape of you,
stroke the nape of your neck,
Belief in my power restored.

 

Amanda Edwards