Monday, September 24, 2012

writing at night.

Untitled

Give me
His hands moving
his hands
down
my
back
At the window

We watch a leaf
curled
like old parchment
hop down the street
his lips on my hair

A prayer in the morning
I want Him to know
(He already knows)
I can't feel anything
until I've been touched

2 comments:

  1. I love your writing. Your poetry is so simple and full of emotion. Thanks for sharing so much of yourself.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. thanks alison. really. that means a lot. <3

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