A Feast for the Senses

by Michael L. Scott

How do you breathe beauty into tears and dry their rivers with the dancing sunlight of your fruitful smile? I
dissolve in your presence and evaporate in your silent departures. I whispered to the evening star of your ivory skin and the tree sap beauty seeping out of you. My senses bathe in you. She. You. The center of time that the hands of clocks circulate and scream for at midnights hour. Questions cannot burrow in love hardened and warmed by overwhelming certainty. I lived thus far, in queue. Emerald eyes gained shine in your arrival and a soul’s door came unlocked. Dusty worries settled on uneven desires, we can let the candles burn so true, the wax will refuse to creep away from burning truths. The angels carry envy that rusts their wings with moss.  Perfection knows no duplication, nor should it. You tattoo love into the air with every breath taken. Am I so deserving? I must ask, as you spoil my senses in our falling star moments.

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Filed under Issue 2, Prose

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