INK

Between my fingers I caress you,
Twisting, turning, pushing in.
Preparing to peel away the layers,
To absorb you, to ignite.

Tip to sheet I feel the thrust,
Jolting my everything, me everywhere.
The secret shadow emerges,
Explosively I turn to dust.

Holding tight, my hand sweeps and sways,
Across the naked blanket of white.
A denuded trail of intimate narrative,
Revealed in its wake.

Intimations swirl impetuously,
The contour of a wistful mind.
Blacker than creativity in repose,
Bluer than the oceans sky.

Blindfolded, I drag my feet,
Steadily introducing me to me.
A chasm in thought and the liquid drips,
Symbolizing an imperfect mind.

Between my fingers you caressed me,
Absorbing every second of time.
Palm to tip I let you slip,
Drifting contently into my soul of INK .

 

Alyson Caroline Evans – England – (1963 - )

Evans, A (2018) Poetry for Business : Continuing Conversations. The Foolish Poet Press, Wilmslow, England. INK. Page Number 23.

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