ever reaching a golden shore
he does sometimes
lay some treasure on her changing watery lights
or peek a white brow upon the waves
touching her roughness with some phosphorescence
she will pull him with that rope of them
hand over hand as he runs to fly
only to make her own blanket
a parachute for landing softly
the sky might feel the rain
like a kiss
a pressure
some heated tracings electric
it just might
Venus born to walk
upon the land
opening her mouth
her arms and thighs
to the oneness of oceans and skies
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About the Creator
susan marie loehe
everything is Art, Art is Everything.
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