When we lie naked
In the dark
I often find you tracing
Your delicate fingers across
My chest
They stop and study
The myriad of scars
I`ve acquired;
You run your finger
Along each one like you`re
Reading braille
You don't always like every
Story that they tell
And then
Near the time
When we both
Fall asleep,
Your hand comes to rest
On the patch of clear skin
Near my right nipple,
And, hand tired from
The chapters read tonight,
You rest your
Open palm there
Like a shield
You are sweet to
Guard it like you do
That will make the story
Written there
All the harder to read
What did you think
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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This brings back memories for me of someone with a scarred chest and it's all the more poignant and tender in your competent hands as a poet, saying she is sweet to guard it while making the story written there all the more hard to read.
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Thanks for all your nice comments
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this poem just made me sigh, made my eyes go all soft....this is love, this is how it should be written and read. beautiful poetry.
~ Nicolette
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"You are sweet to
Guard it like you do"
sighs. It must be worth it...
stunning.
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This is freakin' fantastic. It surges and tugs in all the right places and the ending will stay with me today - could have been about me, metaphorically speaking!
Really loved this
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