Saturday, April 1, 2017



The night is soft,
like salt on my skin
blown there by ocean breezes.

The night is tender,
it caresses me as if
it were a second layer of skin.

The night eases
the descent of
falling petals.

Cradle of darkness,
wrap so kindly, so tightly
and breathe in me

your familiarity.
It is siren kind
and i need the night..


        writing tip--listen for the words.


No comments:

Post a Comment