Tuesday, August 17, 2010

visual poem


I'm restless as
spider-lines
traverse me. Their
touch a tingle, an
echo, a breath.

You sit still
letting me trace
constellations
across your back,
my finger flows.

1 comment:

baruk said...

*like. particularly like 1) that the image seems to play with the text, suggesting sand dunes and maybe sheets and 2) the lines "you sit still/letting me trace constellations/across your back"