His hands

His hands wrap circles around me.
Fitting into place,
With an ever-changing pace,
Into his soft and gentle palms
I fall and hit his
Passionate wall.

His hands wrap ribbon through me,
Wires in my brain,
Never felt elsewhere,
With a grip beyond repair,
I fall and hit his chest,
Cotton vest.

His hands wrap silk around my heart,
Fire in my eyes,
And swallows in my sky.
Blind eyes and death ears,
Cast upon my burning head.
And now rains down,
My continuing dread.
Of departure.

Boneata Bell Tuesday May 3rd 2011 1.41PM Copyright.


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