I write with water on the tip of my finger
On wall board which will make the walls of my home
The story is old
The home is new
I write with scotch on the tip of my thumb
On my mouth which burns with unsaid words
The lament is deep
The kiss is light
I write with juice of strawberries on the tip of my tongue
On the side of your cheek which stains with each stroke
The meaning is tart
The taste is sweet
I write with tears on a lock of my hair
On the back of my hand which holds no hope
The traces are faint
The impression is strong
I write with ink on the tip of my pen
On the paper that makes it so which binds my word
The lines are short
The intent is long
I love this one. It's wonderful.
ReplyDeleteThanks Vi Vo. I kinda like it too.
ReplyDeleteOoh, nice. Very beautiful. Skips along and tosses meaning at you casually.
ReplyDelete