As gentle as
My touch can be,
A coaxing gesture,
The truth of my actions,
Warrants boldness,
Not clumsiness
And you,
Present a truth
As I rend your clothes,
Hair pulled into a lock
At the nape of your neck,
Stripes across your skin,
Blue and purple blossoms,
Where my touch approaches
The velocity of passion,
Hang blankets above
Our heads as I
Reach within you
Draw out the light,
Carress and find its heart
To coax into openness
Kissing until we lose
Ourselves
Only to know
When we pull apart
To breathe,
We are found
In such a state
Of savage, eloquent
Grace.
MB Blissett 