She is a pearl, a night pearl left on shore

to enrapture moon

her glow infinite, beneath water, o-er ocean

she turns, a velvet ribbon and I follow

possessed by singular vision

her irregular grace and

the dystopia of instinct

loathes the outline of her leave

with ferocity

she surplants my own gaze

by watching her, I find loveliness again

our language intuited

keys in a fruit bowl

picked at will

flash of silver and her hand

shaped in intention, shifting gears

knee down on gas, slivering through night

was it then?

Harpsichord of need gathered like penitents at wake

wishing themselves beneath earth

if it would evoke feeling, would wake sleeping

outliers of faith, to disturb solemn procession

to forgetting, our tempura hearts

beating in fragile unison

was it then? Testing breakable surface

I chose to dive, collecting your solvent depths

in pollinating gown, as I could taste

grace in my mouth, a melange of unspoken

longing, bursting beneath my blind swallow

I would lie here, my hand in yours, the

curve of us indistinquishable, skin hot with

persperation, a thruming channel of

love coursing my veins

you, in the center, a delight cresting and falling

waves of us, feeling for shoreline, that last cry

holding me to your quake, as passenger will clasp

her bird in descent, flat feathers, going deeper

find another place, as yet unopen to

entreat with the crocus of her heart

til you open again

and a river runs

no words

only felt

that latch lifted

and you place the key

deep within

16 Replies to “The crocus of my heart (2)”

  1. “And you place the key deep within.”
    Now… That’s an ending to an incredibly heartfelt poem.

  2. Why no comment here, and so many likes? Does she quake as the earth does when her time has come … when the vibrations on her skin reach a resonance with her soul, and a river runs through her …

  3. Eugenia (I just love using your name because I love your name!) THANK YOU so much for your kindness and beautiful words of support I appreciate YOU

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