SOFTLY

We draw close the curtains
That fall down around us;
We draw near each other
Under the cover of this rain.
My salted tears are never an ocean,
Yet they rock me gently, in a lull,
And here, amidst the sweat and beauty,
I find my home, in your arms;
Between layers of silken bliss
That may slip through eager fingers
And settle upon your flesh,
May you find your way
And carry me with you.

Tamyka Bell
09 September, 2004


If you find any typos, or if you have any comments to make on my poems, please email me.

Light Years
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