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ethan-taylorPoems
You are a blind man’s poem. I read your body in Braille, the rhyming lines of your brow swept down toward the soft turn of your cheek and your lips’ closed couplet. I trace your back like a riverbed, the pebbles of your spine washed smooth by the soft waves that rush through the valley of your shoulders. I walk my fingertips across chill-bumps, the lyrics of sighs on your chest, kept silent with the rhythm of breaths held back against beating hearts. I sweep my lips over planes, the landscape of your limbs, laid bare beneath this blind man’s gaze and found no less beautiful by cecity.
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Apr 7, 2011
Apr 7, 2011 at 4:19 AM UTC
Relating Lines
You are a blind man’s poem. I read your body in Braille, the rhyming lines of your brow swept down toward the soft turn of your cheek and your lips’ closed couplet. I trace your back like a riverbed, the pebbles of your spine washed smooth by the soft waves that rush through the valley of your shoulders. I walk my fingertips across chill-bumps, the lyrics of sighs on your chest, kept silent with the rhythm of breaths held back against beating hearts. I sweep my lips over planes, the landscape of your limbs, laid bare beneath this blind man’s gaze and found no less beautiful by cecity.
ethan-taylor
Written by
ethan-taylor
American
Apr 7, 2011
Apr 7, 2011 at 4:19 AM UTC
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