Glittering sun beams
Embrace water like silk sheets
Fingertips wander
Breaking the surface apart
Unlike balanced pond skaters
Words left
trailing
At the edge of the nightstand
Fading by the hour
Fragile as dawn’s misty eyes
Slipping through cupped hands
A moment
before silent toes reached the floor
A tug on our tether
held by scents of passion flesh
to stay.
Passing-
Extinguished by silk moth wings
The door frame
solid wood against cold fingers
Breathe in crisp mountain air
A steady ache of could haves
Now locked in a drawer
Like bruised full lips, pulsating
with memories of smeared rouge
The passage of time
fogs
sharp details into myth
like breath on cold glass
Our lake remains without us
Some day the stars will align
About the Creator
Michele Nampalli
This space is breath for my sensitivity. The poems come fully formed. I've known for quite some time now that my art is about receiving more than creation...its the most natural way I know to process my inner world. It started when I was 7.
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