Soft, Feminie Touch remaining

So Certain are these Hands
that Reach and Light
in this Embrace of one so Loved

Whispering  Secrets
Shared together by
An Adoration Spoken without Words
That I feel you is a Pleasure Beyond
Being

Reason Unbound
Chasms  Pleasure

a ribbon of fire
a curl of lace
and your eyes swimming
in the fishbowl
of my heart

I see a ribbon dancing
When I close my eyes
I wonder at its purpose;
Too soon the image dies

Might it thread through silken hair,
Or adorn an elegant frock?
Lace a dainty slipper,
Or flaunt a shiny rock?

Ah, I see it clear--
The purpose of this band
'tis meant to be a noose
To still this heart and hand.

It was torn and slightly tattered
storms and wind had battered
The symbol....
The tree was strong and silent
As the winds tore through real violent
At the symbol.....

Look around you'll see it
There are many there to see
A simple yellow ribbon
Tied tight right around a tree
They're there for every soldier
Who is fighting to be free
They are waiting for their safe return
They are there for you and me

That yellow ribbon hangs on tough
To the tree bark that is worn and rough
A symbol...
On the day that they come home
Show them they were not alone
Show the symbol...

It's a simple ribbon on a tree
That shows them that we care
A yellow ribbon, nothing more
We're proud that they are there
When our soldiers come on home
I think that it would just be fair
To let them cut it down
And give them a ribbon they can wear
....a symbol

I wanted to write a poem about
something seemingly simple like love,
but then I remembered all those times I
lost myself on the winding stairs of your eyes;
how I would so eagerly climb the steps of your retinas and
get lost in the hues and you didn’t feel anything as
I shattered every glass landing but
sometimes I feel the phantom drip of
blood on my feet when I trip over
my own tongue.

I remember my heart felt
like it was ticking counterclockwise
and how my stomach was shredding itself,
taking the ribboned pieces and
hanging them from my ribcage
so that they fluttered when my lungs
expanded on that last exhale.

I’d like to think that the click and bob
Of your throat was remorse.