Touch of Silk
Touch of Silk
Spirits, souls were
all I cared about
until this clear
night of loneliness,
stars mirky
reminders of the
liquid blue and
white of your eyes.
Prayerful pleas,
no matter how sincere,
cannot change the
will of the gods.
I, anchored in flesh,
must touch you,
your cheeks, lips,
the nape of your neck.
To know you again,
your hands on my shoulders,
your fingertips, is
all can fill me.
©Kathryn McLoughlin Collins
March 25, 2013
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