Cupped Body
Holding your touch in my cupped body Burning is being
Above the ripples in Adam’s pond And the child who cast the first stone.
All worlds were clashing cymbals of meaning When eyelashes could draw blood From my fathomless will.
Ancient words before meaning What your touch means.
Poems that make frogs wonder.
Star fall and kisses.
Thoughts of impossibility.
Mike Stone
SourceLicence:CC BY-ND 4.0