Obsessive Hands
abreast of nightshade tipping the moon
hands of iron cupped my desire coaxing me,
into the shadow-lands of my obsession
the shades moved
as your fingers found their mirror,
and iridescent trails of dark-light
kaleidoscope across my skin
I have visions of your hands
and their movements,
I feel a rush of want
to pull in their need
obsessed
I watch each wave
within every gesture
I draw them closer
until your fingers,
cradle me
in shadows of night
within the palms
of your hands
and all that remains
is the jay feathers,
and maple leaves
drifting onto my heart
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