woman is no illusion
upon far ocean,
she is seen and waits,
rough cobbled harbor wall,
to this they come,
wife, prostitute, lover, mother, daughter
they seek the man or men,
who cast off
to become part of vessels,
over wave and flounder home,
gone so long with tentative hearts,
that could constrict,
would embraces and kisses come
or would hands be left unheld
embraces undone,
awkward silence on the wall
an unsure reunion ,
played out in a longing fantasy
the woman with dark hair
in sweet obsidian shine
held a fixative gaze,
she wished to cast off dress to underskirt
take hold of her man,
dance quick steps folding within each other,
taste open salt upon his brow,
relish in callused touch,
his voice a shanty that lilts her heart,
barefoot ascension to that place
beyond passions linger,
cold shuddered she waited,
he waved
the fantasy felt assured.
This ones shines like sweet obsidian…
Many strands to consider in this poem.
Oh this is sensual and open to feeling between your lines….funny how we all read these, and can walk away feeling it long after…and even still, those lines you write, are understood in all of our own lives….that’s what makes poetry so darn wonderful, right. I love it when a poem makes me ponder…and think….!
Thank you Karen, i am glad it gave you a ponder and have a great week
Not all that far from what I had to say – so, thanks!
Plenty to read between the lines here.
Thank you
loved reading this !
Thank you for making time hope your day goes well