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Obsessive Hands

abreast of nightshade tipping the moon
hands of iron cupped my desire coaxing me,
into the shadow-lands of my obsession

the shades moved
as your fingers found their mirror,
and iridescent trails of dark-light
kaleidoscope across my skin

I have visions of your hands
and their movements,
I feel a rush of want
to pull in their need

obsessed
I watch each wave
within every gesture

I draw them closer
until your fingers
cradle me
in shadows of night
and within the palms
of your hands

all that remains
is the jay feathers
and maple leaves
drifting onto my heart

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 

Comments

Very darkly sensual,Jayne. I enjoy reading this as I do all of your poetry. I have a question though. You use black and its numerous overtones as a strong theme or device in your poetry. What does this allagory symbolize to you?
Thanks my wise and lovely friend,

Joe

My mind's writing cheques my body can't cash.

mostly I write from the heart, with a lot of my poetry there is another message below the surface, I have of late been dark in the telling I often write of hope and love and light and all that entails

I am so glad you liked this one, its been a long time in the writing,

thanks for the visit and thanks for the title suggestion on my other poem its already changed

love JC xxx

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

author comment

I am bowled over. Such a superior write...."abreast of nightshade tipping the moon"

I appreciate your time and thoughts on this

sincerely Jayne-Chloe

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

author comment

abreast of nightshade tipping the moon
into the shadow-lands
shades moved
as fingers found their mirror,
and iridescent trails of dark-light
cross skin

watch each wave
within each gesture
draw fingers closer
to cradle me
jay feathers
and maple leaves
drift onto my shoulder

I've been reading your poems without commenting, love a lot of your phraseology but think you need to be more ruthless. Leave room for the readers' imagination to flourish.

I have had a spell of being uninspired I am slowly writing and just taking each day as it comes I will take your advice and see where it takes me, thanks for reading :)

love JC

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

author comment

A most beautiful write, with all the emotion and lovely words to caress our minds.
Lovely to see you are a little rested and once again watching the beauty around you,
Now damn well go out and embrace that beauty you are worth it,
Yours Ian.T

.
There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

thanks for the read I am really tired but happy to be home :)
will catch up with you tomorrow my batteries need charging

love and hugs JC

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

author comment
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