Friday, May 05, 2006

Canvas

You stand above me,
tugging my hair
to draw my lips
closer to your will.
And I lay
open like the sky,
awaiting its Masters
splashes of sunrise.
A canvas,
accepting and absorbing
every stroke,
gentle or not,
and seeking only
your design for me.

2 comments:

Shon Richards said...

I really enjoyed this one. Those first four lines really resonated.

Athena said...

Hey Shon! I'm glad you found me over here. ;-) These days poetry is about all I have time for.