Melting Point

my heart turns its ache

the slightest quake

in a cryptic sea

that stumbles its vitality

as i don burlap

to feel the contrast

of your hands

rustling sands

to stir time’s trust

~

and i am lost

on the edge of breath

a depth i sheer

as the sun

turns its sphere

marking without guile

the edgeless

and i appear

in the whisper

that you gather close

oh, promise me so

it is true north we know

~

© M.G. Iannucci 2019

Art by Diego Fernandez

 

11 thoughts on “Melting Point

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