Let's see if Hamish is still reading...
Skin
In those first years the
touch of your skin was given
to me like the joy of
the pink flush on the
season’s first peach.
I breathed you in, your
sweetness and an earthiness
that marked the boundaries
of your limbs, entangled,
from my own.
We grew together,
our follicles entwining
molecules migrating between
us so that we became more alike,
more of each other.
I know you now.
I touch the fine hairs on your
back like those on my arms that
still stand on end when
we are near.
Your skin and mine
are familiar to me,
ten years of parallel
life that has
bound us together.
This skin is older now, our
love more like the
heady aroma that lingers
in a valley of grapes
left on the vine
to dry in the sun.
More Sunday Scribblers here.
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4 comments:
Hi Pip, I grew up in Wellington thugh I live in Christchurch now, I'm going to take a look further round your blog (came to you through Sunday Scribblings)
glad you posted this late, so i could still get a chance to read it. very nice.
I love these last lines:
This skin is older now, our
love more like the
heady aroma that lingers
in a valley of grapes
left on the vine
to dry in the sun.
Beautifully said!
Like Tinker, I loved those last lines.
So glad you posted this. It's truly lovely.
Thanks.
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