Poem for her 203

Dear Readers,



Back to Drawing


Her bare arm was my canvas
I was feather light with edge of finger nail
Drawing things there
Never long letters or poems
But things she could see
As my fingers touched her

Drawing her skin under my hand
Touching her soft and slow
Telling her the story line as
Line by line I draw it out
Slowly and softly skin edge deep

"I want more touch like that"
She said just now in a conversation
As my hand slowly traces flowers
And tree branches over her skin
First starting at her ankle
Then toward her toes
Soft feather like touches

Then off to the back and the paints
They are not paint paint
Just different sized brushes
Slowly drawing on her skin
Switching on nerve endings
Then slowly tracing them again

Drawing softly on a canvas
Calling her attention to
Letters of a poem
Written on her back over
An afternoon and told by candle light


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.