A Certain Gravity
He conjectured the weight of her small breasts.
lifted them in cupped hands,
weighed the texture gravity has
when combined with the weight of pleasure.
He wonders about this sudden passion for lightness;
then he recalls his mother;
that bird-like lady -
the pressure of tenderness
as she held his face
in both her palms
as if he were the weight of her own soul.
Now he holds this beautiful
unfathomable woman
not knowing what to say,
because his mouth is full
of a heaviness
perhaps only known
to clouds and rain.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2020
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