i have run out of colors.
the pen has run dry, the paint
hardened like unfelt desire.
i stand here naked
like an untouched canvas
like a tree in winter
like words without meaning.
my edges have blurred,
my outline gray, smudged
by the brush of your thumb.
and i would rub out these lines
erase the haze of the rising dawn
but for the glow that remains
in the shape of these cones.


About ky

Poet. Photographer. Writer. Goddess. View all posts by ky

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: