Friday, December 21, 2018

Gillian Swain - #31 - the art of borrowing

what else can I tell you?
I was a summer of disproportionate 
elation   the one dressed 
in great swathes of colour so
pleasing to touch   it was me
who under the brush
of untroubled fingers   moved
to sway as    tree-tops tease 
the feet of sky   and in that great
belt of nothingness   I was 
everything   you tried to grasp
the stretch of hand the
arc of want   it was me
that season of warm   baths of sunlight
you'd sink in   up to your neck
unhurried   unhungry
you wrote it all
in my skin   you
came back 
to read   to ask
that was then.










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