veiled

 

Fireblossom Friday at Real Toads, with a prompt to look beyond the obvious.

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She stands before me

as so many times before she has done

and my heart it weeps

if I could describe her to you I would

but i fear cliche

i do not dare drape words on her perfect form

add anything other

to her

being just her

Would i hang a new flower on the ripening cherry blossom?

Drip an extra drop of water into the tumbling waters falling?

Pour new grains of sand onto the curve of paradise?

no

all i can do is to reach out and touch her

and then describe with all my senses alight

that sound of my soul

that seeing of the naked night

that touch of electric ripple

that taste of nectar

that smell of skin

one-ness

that belonging

alas

my spirit fingers make no contact

and she

this light breeze ignores

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