Saturday, 7 May 2016

A New Touch

Shackled by her shirt she
knelt waiting, her eyes
tight shut to sharpen her
sense of someone else
entering her space, a
different footfall, a new
breath, the prickle of a
strange scent, a sense of
the tension that awaits a
new touch.

(Image used by kind permission of to whom I am most grateful and you should go visit. The poem is my imagination and is not a reflection of their lifestyle)

1 comment:

  1. Wonderful! "Prickle" and "footfall" are delightfully used, in particular. ~C