They'd lie still,
slender and white down the
ladder of reflected light.
They'd fall dormant
climbing silenced dreams gradually.
They've realized such paths before
with bolstered arms shifting to engraved memory.
Perhaps pierced afternoons
Spent drifting within a room
Renewed delicate light
The still images of sight dancing
animal-like
These soft beasts of light.
Yet softer upon her hand,
it'd drift bare white.
Skimming black canals of sleep
They'd suspend themselves upward
amongst the distant deep.
Timidly, they'd play and lay
Reviving the stirs
carefully matching her.
And so gently,
They'd break stepladders, engulfed with light;
lie still and dormant,
until his hand eats hers.
YOU ARE READING
collection of poems and short stories
PoetryPoems and short stories that I've written throughout my study of literature and writing. Hopefully you'll be able to see the progression of my craft. References to literature and artist are spread throughout the prose.
