Carried Away
He beckoned me from my walls
of stiff, stale air
to join him in his lazy run
down a path violently cut with his rippling liquid fingers
a long time ago.
Those same fingers
now gently tickle my flesh
as I carefully dip my foot in his shadows.
His gentle grasp –
snaking tendrils wrapped around my ankles –
send chills rushing up my leg
to whisper his secrets in my ear.
I inhale deeply and step in further.
He tugs at my waist and begs me to lie with him. I can’t resist.
I lie down and his body cradles me
Pulls me into himself…completely surrounds me;
A tender rocking as he carries me.
Whistles and trills now carry a bass note –
muffled and muted
and finally gone.
Reluctantly, I arise from his wet embrace
the evidence of his touch still shining on my skin
liquid silver dripping off my fingertips.
A smile on my lips.
Posted on May 12, 2010, in Poem, Rosemary Carroll and tagged River, Run, Water, Wet. Bookmark the permalink. 5 Comments.
My favorite. Abso.
Chaps?
whew
lol! Mind out of dirt and into WATER. 🙂
I knew it was water…. Ian’s mind was in the dirt too! Must be a boy thing…. love it… makes you think and reread… Good stuff.