Poem

The Color

The color of your lips:
a carnival
of my desires,
palette of skinned
truths of my being
and glossy red
like the blood
of my heart, my love
pounding in the veins
and vessels of my senses –
a fallen mourning
dove’s feather, a bubble
from your lilac-scented
bath, the hard-crusted
confection of crème brulee;
a kaleidoscope
of my desires
in the translucence
of her mirrored skin,
prism of connection,
sweet transfer to the light
of my essence,
a rainbow touched
at last.