The Woman He Sees

She clothes him in my nudity

shrouds him in my tumbling hair

and her touch burns pink

like candle lit kisses.

 

She breathes in cinnamon

she’s fiery and warm, her cold thawing passion

washing his unholy hands and feet

with my presence.

 

She worships the moon

and the sun and the stars

when they do and do not shine

secreting within them my wishes and rhymes.

 

She consumes all she touches

to give birth to the earth again

except now each river and midnight

glisten with my smile.

 


 

© Kristiana Reed 2018

2 thoughts on “The Woman He Sees

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