I live, I breathe
cold light playing
on my skin
morning with an entourage
of chilly fingered breath
that sighs
against my flesh
night fevered by my blanket
and my dreams
of freshly shaven face
and chin
and lips inclined to mine
with so much promise
hearts could explode with loving
party favours spouting blood
instead of streamers,
sparkle in the frozen light
prying eyes apart
and stroking cheeks
with icy fingers
pulling me,
Horrible the way morning's can turn into knight mares isn't it? Timing is everything when working with words on air and living life to the full. Loved the way this morning started fresh and bracing and got the blood pumping. Smiling at you Tai
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Icy fingers have it---