wordsmith

or how to make love with the written word

I am not so skilled with words
that I can make you tremble
_____ever so softly
with a turn of phrase
or a metaphor
expertly wrought
into being

Not so skilled that
I can map your body
black on white
all your contours and
shadows, the way the light
plays against your skin

Described in such a way
that words can caress you
in place of my fingers
hands or mouth
lipsteethtongue

Nor with just my
voice can I reach
across the void
between us two

There is no
red string of fate
from my mouth to your ear
connecting us from
here to there

And plus
I feel uncomfortable
with hyperbole
there is no guarantee of
fairytale endings of
happilyeverafter
and I will not claim
as Aristotle once did
that we are of one soul
and two bodies entwining
searching for unity

And thus
lacking words of my own
that I can pick like wildflowers
and weave into a crown of
wilted blossoms
______( I'm sure my fingers
_______would smell like spring )
to make something beautiful
and either unable or
unwilling to annex
words that belonged to another

I am left somewhere between
speechless and uncertain
for there are many things that
I would wish to say

If only I could wrap my mouth
tongueteethlips around
something metaphysical
f o r m l e s s a n d i n t a n g i b l e
and then gift it to you

But I am not so skilled