Unbeknownst to her, me thinks

I sit, just outside of her room of teaching

Close enough yet to hear her speak

Describing the lines of human anatomy

The hues of colors found in the eyes

How easily they’re manipulated in light

Reflections, refraction’s, secret shadows

She speaks of chalk, strokes of brushes

Sleek curves of porousness, moistness

Sweat beads across my own warm surfaces

How one’s body is but human parchment

All works of art; stilled in fluent movement

Her words, moist, effortlessly they do flow

Slipping off her tongue, past her colored lips

To conjure up those images- in my mind

And feelings that tantalize- memories

Like soft silky fingers do bare skin

As they trace- while racing my heart

To the next vivid, physical anticipation

Memories I thought had long gone

And chills that still cause eruptions

Eddies of colors and deep emotions

Deep in my core, my soulful existence

Oh, how I love to listen to her words

My eyes closed; off in another world

Freeing me from my own inhibitions

All while remaining mostly discrete

As she takes me there again, and again

To that secret place of… shadowing


Poet of the Light © 2018


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