Entry #4 - Poetry

[acoustics1220]

Beginnings

Ever since my eyes opened,
her gaze drawing me in,

they have wanted familiarity.
Their Being clings and embraces others touch,

searching for their sculptor’s caress,
refined as required emotion assesses

my coarse edges: one by one,
skinned and tanned, their stamps approaching nearer

to my unique emblem. You see it,
and yet I search for freedom

away, to dawdle in the past
relations, savoring this embrace.

Wanting my touch: caressing,
cradling your heart, my imprint.

May this entwining be
Infinite carvings

from you alone
fulfillment-Your imprint-seals my fate.

© MH
written as a replacement poem of Martha Serpas - Finishing Touch



Finishing Touch - Martha Serpas

Ever since the painter depicted
Your finger extended to Your creature,

we have known we crave a surrogate touch.
We press others’ palms to our faces,

as if we were still being molded,
polished by an apprenticed love revising

our rougher destinies: Each hand found
more skillful than the last, each imprint closer

to Your transforming seal. I know this,
and still I have to ask for reprieve

in illusion, to linger in this present
flesh, believe in her finishing touch.

I want this hand: its knowing strokes
inside my thighs where all portrayal begins.

Let this hand complete me for the stretch,
the soft edges of these fingers be the last

of each I feel, let it be her own
hand---hers alone---that will close these eyes.

Neither infringement nor profit is among my objective.