Mmm…
like a free verse
I wrote about love
and let your hands touch
the slender papers of my skin.
And you spread me out like an open book;
you read the verses, lines, veins, and moles
with the right pauses, tone, and touches.
A free verse, real and natural.
You made it so easy to understand
the intention behind each punctuation,
deciphering the metaphors,
and there your fingers slid their way in
from soles to legs then into my soul.
Under the scrutiny of your eyes,
I saw my reflection
in the shape of her
flawed r e a l n e s s,
I felt exposed
yet felt no shame, no judgment.
Mmm… fact, that’s damn good.
May you surround yourself with a circle that matches your heart. Those who listen first before miscalculating your intentions. There’s such a pleasure in being heard and understood. It’s rare but you can find it in you, too. It frees you from hate and judgment.
And I find great pleasure in writing here again. Ahh.
