You might call it escapism
My departure
Into the world of image
It is more than that for me
It is gentle, all embracing
How can I call it; torture
Coastal memories
Of loves descendant
Once strolled pathways
Springs rising springs
Washed in my own
Deeper sap of uncertainty
Flesh unloaded of burden
Carried voluptuously
Laced by loss and distance
Fabrics; there to be touched
Touched by love
Untouched by me
There are surges
Undulations of emotion
With each entered recognition
The excitement of twisted rushes
As lusts flow moves unimpeded
Throughout my bodies bloodstream
I say that the longing is subsided
Yet one picture tells me; no
That it is so entirely untrue
I calm myself, vent doubts
After each such intermission
Prepare for further storms
From the Collection One Crow to a Tree - Love in Separate Houses available from Lulu
