Milky Gritted Stone

I look at you as if I would a stone; the prettiest kind.

In my mind; you are that stone.

Solid.

Black.

Light-hidden and drifted from waters on shore as I sit

half-wet,

half-cold,

half-staring.

 

The stone is hard in hand;

round and smooth; scented of forgotten things.

Milky grit; it’s colour captures all

attentions of moon and eyes,

as I hold you.

My Stone

Reviews

[PianoandPage]

mmmm. seductive write. i always think of seduction as a way of taking ordinary things and infusing them with meaning.

i really love the consistant use of stone, how it evolves and yet brings the images back together.

how you play with the qualities of stone.

how it represents security.

how it represents masculine sexuality (in hand) :)

how it changes with the light.

very cool.

i dig poems that tell several stories with just a few lines or stanzas. brava!

[Dulce de Leche]

I adore the last stanza.

For some reason, all kinds of smells came to my mind as I read this. Probably because of the "forgotten scents" line.