Wholeness of Fallen Pages

I think never in white what I feel in colours
before pages and more pages
soaked in wholeness
as they overflow the soul in flood of glances
that my open fingers allow to drain.

Thus, I draft green moans upon blue caresses
and longing, in madness of brushstrokes and audacious lines
with all the wind and all the sun of afternoons
drowned in dawns of many senses
and even more segments and profiles, slowly bitten
in the distance between glows and languors
and secrets obscured yet bared by sepia and golden dots.

And the thought falls, in ripeness
through a scarlet reading that the lips
suddenly reap
when other fingers open my own even wider
and the flood is made return of kiss.

Then, deeply felt colours spread this very poem
over skin, warm
and sobs of wholeness
do not leave in white a single page
among the many cascading the chromatism
of love intensely made
and then floating, with a moist hue of sigh
to the ground.

© 2005 Alexandra* ~ OneLight*® Authors & Creations