Zywa Skin of my soul

In the pond, I warm myself by the sun
like a prince to be kissed

a girl dances water lilies
around me, her mirror dress
touches me for a moment

Would her lips only bend to me
to lick the salt from my skin
and the skin from my soul

then I would fly magic butterflies
down to her toes, would I anoint
and crown her, wallow in her –

seeds around us, so light
that they don't cast shadows

Poem 1484
Amsterdam, 2017-08-02

Collection: The Big Secret 
Keyword: Love: wish (thought) 
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