The Archive

Friday, 19 September 2014


Tender touches.
Brush strokes
Like ice
To my fevered brow.

You make me tea
And toast
And touch my hand.

Little things
But you do them exquisitely
Your artists fingertips painting life back into my cheeks.

Your eight fascinate mine.
I touch them, kiss them
Brush strokes
Across my lips.

Flic French

No comments:

Post a Comment