Perfect Picture

...when it's 'perfect'....

You have such small,

Gentle hands.

The softest of touch;

As you trace invisible lines

Across my temples

And relaxed brow.

 

You stare into me,

I’d left windows open

Secretly hoping

That you’d brave

My weak defenses

And seek me out.

 

Inside, you comfort me

More than the fire

I had waiting for you.

You incise my soul

Drawing no blood,

Caressing open nerve.

 

Your skill of navigation

Within me:

I sense that you have been

Here�"before.

Perhaps in a Time

When Dreams lived, flourished.

 

So petite in size�"

Yet my own passion

Enwraps you and

I feel and breathe

Your every selfless,

Deliberate move.

 

My eyes, weary

And guilty of your entrance.

They complied when

Words failed to shield

From an intruder

Of Need and Desire.

 

I shall keep you

Safe, here.

Should you peer out my chest

You will see

The palm of my hand,

Guarding you in.

So fitting you are.

I am intoxicated and

Delirious with the liquids

We are now sharing.

I feel our flesh grafting,

As it always belonged.

 

I close my eyes,

While you settle in

Your forever home.

I will sleep now, dream

That you someday may be,

More than a photograph.

Reviews

[EmpressPoetess]

This is precious!

[Crowley]

A song of loneliness and great imagination, a great picture of how the mind can invent a scenario so real and burgeoning with emotion that it is difficult to distinguish the physical with the photo. Nice job.

[Ruth]

I love the fact that all of leads to a photo! Amazingly beautiful poem :) Such treasures are kept close to the heart and sometimes they can become almost real, wonderful!
xx

[Michael Jarrell]

Beautiful. Such a lovely poem to read to someone who you are in love with, but I love how the entire mood changed just from the last line. Brilliant. =]