The Vessel

your touch

softens the clay

that forms the curve

of my heart,

hands slipping 

skin on skin.

water wears down rock,

a cascade of silken silt

filling streams

that burst their borders.

run off trickles

through the gullies 

and over mossy mounds

settling and seeping 

into the fertile valley

where we mold

earth into the fired vessel,

shaped by the motions 

of our love.

.

© M.G. Iannucci 2017
Photo: Hands Shaping Clay

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