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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Personal · #1457384
a poem written during the turmoil of grief, loss, love, and change


Within your affections my fingers have grown warm,
simply delighted at the encompassing touch and knowledge.

A pair of kid leather gloves, buttery, loving each centimeter of my hands,
your own skin and scent and taste, once a craving now survival, necessity.

Journey, diversion, simple travel, no more than that is promised, days meld, weeks bloom and months combine until,
the words spring forth unbidden, unspoken, unfiltered and for weeks unheard.

The end was always prophesied, defined,and clearly seen, now ripped raw,
end without end, respite,in spite of desires.

A warm cocoon, lives entwined for a simple embrace, kissing the love from your mouth,
only to have this taken, lost, no sacrificed-freely given at great cost.

De-gloved, in the most horrific way, the flesh taken with the leather, striped bare, no more than bare,
de-gloved, excised, released, freed from the glove and the flesh that craved it.

For hungry souls even the bitterest thing is sweet
for us who now starve the salt of tears is welcomed.

As honeyed words of love tumble like stones on the beach, forever etched,
lost and found within the tumult of daily waves.

De-gloved, re-gloved, once loved, and now respite from what has raised me up,
soul fresh from traveling among the very stars adorning heaven's brow.

Aching as I listen to your rumbling voice, torn as I watch you from afar, observer,watcher,
once navigating with you now fingertips stretched as you slip away.

Time heals, scars mend, flesh knitted together, never the same for having been loved,torn,gloved,worn.
Respite to heal the rent cloth, repair the shattered timber,clean the detritus and debris from the shores.

To our journey now far apart,to be storm tossed without your hand in my own.
De-gloved bereft and left wanting more, time, skin, kisses, always more.

Hope, despair,want,distance,separate,alone,together,connection,apart-the melding now pure alchemy.
I have the secret,the crucible fills and lead turns to gold within the depths.

Return to me,open heart,and the secret will be yours.
Return to me, open soul, and my heart will be yours.

Re-gloved, your growl, your skin and your lips loving every centimeter,
my skin alive and soft wanting, loving and ready, re-loved.


© Copyright 2008 kelticthree (keltic3 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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