If her heart were a drum
it would be outlawed for beating too loud
for the insistent and unwary pound
keeping wakeful when those who rest
wish for silence
beneath her is a lake of feeling
if a mime enacted, his black cloth fingers
would grow numb with gesticulation
his elbows fatigued from the shapes
her wordless passion smacked into
taut skin
trembling at the imagining of her
proximity
she breaks a sweat on the fine hair of her neck
a necklace of pearl and moonstone
for each sway of her fruiting body
she is the picker of her sanity
a welcome devil in empty playground
she blinks into darkness, seeing futures
in one, she is swimming in dark water
the stars illuminating only her want
reaching shore, she searches for her among shadows
trying to imagine the way she feels
naked and shaking off
the spill of her longing
in another they are talking
far into time and beyond, where
landscapes break open pink and ochre
like food consumed by gods
she cannot yet tear herself away
from the smoothness of her skin
or how her cheeks slope like arching
cats, pulling beauty from places
she didn’t know existed
she cannot yet reach out
run her tremulous and urgent hunger
along the narrow slope of her shoulders
and dipping into honey, find a
succulence beyond anything yet tasted
she is a terrifying girl who
knows her power and still
is lost at times to its art
the wince and crimp of her slimness
like a willow tree, capturing storms
she holds her head like a wave
cresting against soft shoreline
proud and a little self-assured
the quivering arrow of her curves
tie like a bow around desire
burns in its simplicity
her skin is mango and sunlight
of all her lives spent
before she was found
still like a water fountain
just before it bursts, released from clay
there is harmony and music
in her tread and no one yet
has found the riddle to her heart
something distant and wafer thin
like a fabric of unknown origin
it is not her wish to change anything
but the temperature she feels
when they press against the other
beneath roar of blood and live wire
crackling into cuplets of lightning
it is not her wish to alter one second
save the moment she relents and
sensing something good
releases her perfume and all the
capture of her loveliness
till they mingle as one energy
burning their quickening on the tail of
some unearthed connection
where beneath the moon they
reach for each other and not
the solace of being alone
lying in a circle like warm petals
she draws her hand slowly
over the silk of her
without words sufficient
holds her breath
as long as it can stay
spellbound by her presence
the entire world paused
in reflecting pools
oceans
never deep enough to
swallow
the intensity
of her regard
for she
is beauty.
Succulent syllables
She is. She most certainly is.
All of this is… exactly what it needs to be. This is stunning, Candice. Especially here:
“for each sway of her fruiting body
she is the picker of her sanity
a welcome devil in empty playground
she blinks into darkness, seeing futures
in one, she is swimming in dark water
the stars illuminating only her want
reaching shore, she searches for her among shadows
trying to imagine the way she feels
naked and shaking off
the spill of her longing”
She is beauty… so is this intoxicating poem. I am swept away, tears and love intermingled within my breast. This is so lovely. So lovely indeed.
Oh. she truly must be Beauty to be so captured in the poet’s eye, and so worshiped in words.
Yes, oh yes she is~
Reblogged this on cabbagesandkings524 and commented:
TheFeatheredSleep – Beauty seen, sensed, desired
What a beautiful intoxicating piece
Draws me in
I love your writings
Beautifully written
Mango and sunlight – luscious
This is just gorgeous