Poem #2 About You

Cold.
Chill stemming from bones,
Rippling out onto skin as though fractal tones.
Without sound these notes construe a vibratory melodic hue.
Upon the staff of body,
Pitch coloring, brush strokes- now warm, become gaudy.

Heat rises.
Anticipation, precipitation.
Stemming forth and from light driven frequency.
Harmoniously, intersensorily, redundantly.
Like song, like poetry.

Warming.
Invoking the known remaining still unknown.
We roll like a stone.
We roll like a stone.
We roll…
Begging for the moment,
Waiting for the the time,
For touch’s condone.

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