Rumplestiltskin of my soul
a soul of no place
of dream
of never
here by the skin of my flesh
a singing flesh so warmly covered
siding me
and against

Soon did I drift towards you
a hazy snail into the pocket of my desire
to sleep there
pale with longing

Take me to market, do
or to the rainbow
or down Bloor Street
anywhere, please

For I do cradle here
your name so fully on my lips.

If you open me unto your palm
I do smile still
for I flower here
in the warmth
of your loving skin.

Similar Stories:

Dreams Lost

Once pots of earth carried miles in strawberry baskets “and Susan shall have a new hat.”

Flying

“You don’t look a day older,” he glows amiably. Which is true. I have a youthful face. And being...

Scattered to the Wind

Still as stone she lies beside her husband soon to be her ex. Forty years earlier, at 28, she ...

Mrs. X

Mrs. X, her name was strange and long, broke one night out of her dingy, foul-smelling second floo...

Bread a Loan

those who are better business men than I offered a price 4 my country they called it by a long...