Thursday, May 12, 2011

Chthonian Skin

If I could touch you now,

I’d touch your face,

find your cheek

pressed into a plum

when you smile

so softly.


The scent

the soft brush

the round curves

the raised coat

of your skin.



My skin crawls,

seeking touch.

To turn it off is futile.

Never turning the key - IS the key.

Mindfulness in the moment -Is the lock.

So lock it.



How can a hunger start so softly,

and reach so deeply,

through the surface of a well?

Foreign and unformed:

hidden

in chthonian skin.



But feeding or fasting,

will it abate,

negate

or satiate?


To live with crawling skin,

a hungry well,

takes an open heart:

Touch my heart, to quiet my head,

perhaps then I can think myself fed,

and lay my skin to rest

upon the memory of your chest.



.(Chthonic: of or relating to the underworld in pre-Apollonian religion, from earth-based religions.)

7 comments:

  1. wow...love the desire and the intimacy esp there in the last stanza....

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  2. I know exactly how this feels, although the words 'crawling skin' conjure odd pictures! Perhaps desire has no suitable words to express itself...

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  3. Diane, this is so delicately layered and so evocative. Desire is a powerful thing and you expressed it brilliantly.

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  4. A touch of H.P. Lovecraft in this powerful and atmospheric piece..

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  5. How can a hunger start so softly,

    and reach so deeply,

    through the surface of a well?


    i don't know, but you expressed this wonder so well... it's all so beautiful, Dianne...

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  6. lovely poem, deep and insightful feelings surfaced

    much love

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