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Neophyte

06 Jan

art-by-thomas-saliot

 

Neophyte

.

In the middle of our conversation

my eyes are drawn

to the pale,

translucent skin of your throat,

to the shadowed hollow

and your perfect bones.

.

I am struck blind

by the holiest of visions.

.

Later staring out of the darkness

my fears are stilled

by the soft

remembered curve of your smile,

and the touch of your hand

when once alone.

.

I am sublime 

with glorious religion.

.

.

This is by no means a new poem of mine, written some years ago and posted here three or four times. But one always adores a neophyte. 

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Thomas Saliot

 
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Posted by on January 6, 2019 in D/s, Erotica, Poetry, Still Life

 

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