Yield

Days when I wake up as clay

are most memorable.

Body pliant.

Yielding at slightest brush.

A coolness hands reach for

and remain

but firmness that clearly states,

“Take care with how you touch me again”

I recede where fingers press

expand where pressure’s less

channel flesh to turn where you suggest.

I am suppleness personified

while you ponder

renew incumbent thoughts

and delight in endless choices,

the pause ‘ere pleasure’s expression

sings a myriad of voices

as moisture calls

as earth I answer

words gentle yet sure

that place me center

as spinning starts

as water drips

raised to heights and depths

with endless grips

for glistening wetness

that shan’t find lips.

A living artwork,

dynamic form.

I am release personified,

a resonant rotational sphere.

I am breaths with which one sighed

since I joy in axial adoration,

a dance I know too well.

It is bliss to be thus fashioned.

Ecstasy to be so held

stretched to sheerness sleekness shape.

I am fluid curves in motion

aromatic oils and smoothest lotion

galaxies consumed by universal ocean.

Yes,

I birthed a night full of dreams

to summon fruition today.

I always bring easy

although,

some hands are not

but to awaken as holy vessel retains lessons

seldom easily forgot.

I truly appreciate that you took the time to read my poem. Kindest of thanks!

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