Uncategorized

moisten your fingertips

and turn my page

a fragrance wafting

your exquisite longing

for my inked illuminations

the duration

of plumule promises

etched on my breast

~

alight in the moment

on the coated horizon

of a day that turns earth

in a cryptic timeless birth

as you seek love’s bidding

on the dawning skyline

of the braille you caress

raised on the emptiness

expressed

in the sweet skin

of my holy lines

~

Love’s true doctrine should be lived, not written.

© M.G. Iannucci 2018

Art: Fields of Eden

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