My love is so tender
When you stroke me with
the smooth of your fingers
I begin to bleed.
My love
I am the footprints
from which your lifting
feet step toward sorrow.
My love is so tender
When you stroke me with
the smooth of your fingers
I begin to bleed.
My love
I am the footprints
from which your lifting
feet step toward sorrow.
Umbriate Press Poetry 