I move my hands slowly,
Do we sing and win
teasing the edges
with the gentle lines
of my fingertips
that mark me as individual.
Do we fall low
Your texture is coarse, desperate
Do we sin to win
so I reach for water
to cleanse and nourish you.
Dipping
my dainty fingers
Into the cold water
a light tingle works its way
down my spine and beyond.
Do we falter lone
Electricity flies from my tips
Do we forget
as I return to caressing you.
Focusing on
the widest sections
of your scarred, torn skin.
Affection and affliction as one.
Do we rise or fall.
About the Creator
Paul Stewart
Award-Winning Writer, Poet, Scottish-Italian, Subversive.
The Accidental Poet - Poetry Collection out now!
Streams and Scratches in My Mind coming soon!
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Comments (4)
This was so poignant. Sending you lots of love and hugs ❤️
This was heart wrenchingly beautiful. I hope you are doing well.
Oh, I feel the anguish in this. Sorry you’re going through, but there’s only one thing to do—keep going. Hugs.❤️🩹
Damn Paul this is great….hope you’re ight