Can
eye rub
my fingers
through your lines
and give them
a soft enough
caress so that
dangling participles
and throbbing
metaphors
rush to get undressed?
Can
eye
embrace
every curve
of every word
giving your phonics
goosebumps while
making the peaks
of your prepositions
stand at attention?
I
confess
you make
me want to
create our own
private dialect
decipherable
by desire
as imagination dives deep
into your pages
of fire
lapping
verbs and
thrusting so hard
into allusions
the allegories crack
as you spread
syllables
and orchestrate
a litany of onomatopoeia
for a
plausible conjunction
with my
diction...
© 2010 dasuntoucha
