Stone Angel

In a fluttering frenzy
My fingers yearn to smooth
the lines of worry on your forehead
Lips murmur against
the softness of your neck
Toes trace the sinews of your calves
up your thighs
Tongue tickle your laughing lips
swallowing words intoxicating as wine

Left alone my skin is dry and hard
Impervious to the want of other hands
My innards, hard volcanic rock
with slow heat
A molten core
Flowing down my arms to fingertips
That close in silent fists
Never wanting to let them loose
In fear of their fire

© 1997 wendi loomis "Reflection in Fragments"

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