this quiet clock may settle
hands-
rest palms in sunlit patches
of hovered "I-know" smiles.
of circles sketched, eyes
might sigh, filtered
by finger-light,
content to touch her other
face and the silence unspoken.
and arms could embrace
all mystery-
of sun and moon,
of pearls drawn from warmth
and blended shadow- from a bed
of bruises, softly held
against those gathered
years,
as small and round
as we might be,
rusted timid
like the breath that trembles
broken under breast,
for now, within each pause
a stone
sits idle in my eye, shifts in tide
of narrow skin.
this calligraphy of moments
falls between.
Adding your comment:
Kate for this stunning and hearttouched write 
Sighhh...How well I know these lines. Intimately. A beautiful piece, penned by a delicately knowing hand. Good luck in Suzanne's contest, Sweetie. Your talent is undeniable. 
