The WishmakerA Poem by Girl Friday (Sarah W.)Upon
allowing him entrance to the blooming grove of
her complicated -- over saturated -- psyche, an
ivy-laced gate was pushed aside -- one that could
never be barred by the hands of another man. gravity itself drew them together -- two objects with enough magnetic mass to tip the earth from her orbit Knowing
was immediate, as the last lonely wing-beat of
a hummingbird, and she trifled with the timing before understanding the exodus of her past lives -- because
they were all wiped away by his hands. she
was in it now -- completely -- pupils dilated to the possibilities of what hands upon flesh can do Eventually there was nothing left to define -- everything
had been done, the stars all had names and
every inch of the sky had already been traversed by
the wandering feet of their love-making eyes. she
wrote him poetry by the light of candles, as he taught to her lost languages, and traced his name in the curve of her throat She
was a tulip still forming the golden cup of maturity when
a Pacific breeze blew him into her off-kilter axis, answering
prayers she uttered only by the light of the moon, proving
that midnight wishes are not always ill-spent.
© 2013 Girl Friday (Sarah W.)Featured Review
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Added on August 7, 2013Last Updated on August 7, 2013 AuthorGirl Friday (Sarah W.)The Beach, CAAbout"She's mad but she's magic. There's no lie in her fire." - Charles Bukowski A NOTE TO MY FRIENDS: Thank you, everyone, who has supported me so kindly on this site. I am humbled by your kind revie.. more..Writing
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