I Reach For You

I reach for you 
In the chill of a winter night 
Where whispers hang 
Like frosted breath, 
Each syllable a kiss upon my neck 
Each word a feathered touch 
That melts upon my lips 
And slides like fingertips 
Along the arched lines of my body 
Awakening the woman 
Deep within.

Touch me, 
Lay against me skin to skin, 
Paint my blank canvass 
With the tip of your tongue, 
Sculpt me 
With the palms of your hands 
Following every curve 
With painstaking attention to detail, 
Bathe me 
In the softest shade of blue 
As you drink in my reaction, 
Leaving me breathless 
As you melt me 
And reform me 
In the likeness of Aphrodite

I reach for you 
In the chill of a winter night 
To write poetry across your skin 
In a silent language 
That leaves no thought untold, 
No ache misunderstood, 
But defies translation 
Into mere words 



december 2008
Janet Reid




  
Awarded by Poetic Constellations