The Lover On My Page

Littering your soul with my feminine graffiti,

Whorls of black ink like tribal tattoos,

Obscuring your scars and the filth of the city,

As with a whispered prayer you pay your dues,


I lay you down on the white sheets of my page,

Where your skin glows in stark contrast,

Stoking with my pen till your fire will rage,

Becoming my sweet repast,


Your name is a mantra immortalized in prose,

A stanza holds you captive with words,

In the depth lies a darkness no mortal will know,

Where the flame of passion burns,


Swaying to the melodies of your latent breath,

From across 2,000 miles of ocean,

The french call this moment ‘the little death’,

I call it centripetal motion.


2 thoughts on “The Lover On My Page

  1. Some Ole Tree

    Oh dear one! What inspires you to stir such sweet emotion in us who cannot resist your lovely words? how you cause me to miss your voice and smile, your laugh, your reading. Your writing keeps me intrigued as always…please don’t stop.


  2. ummm, is this Cliff? 🙂 what inspires me to write such trashy emotional pretty prose? i do believe i will plead the 5th on that one… but really, my inspiration comes from my heart. when my heart is touched i write. it’s an old habit…


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