stir me simmering into something starlit,
silk spun silver by storytelling --
shining special like the core-deep craving
my soul and all my species share.
gossamer glimpse across a room
draped in deepening roselight,
writ in wholehearted wanton wanting,
waiting with argus-eyed apodyopsis
aching to be abased, almost abearing,
sustained by occasional gaze.
still my shivering honest hands
sufficient, just, to hold me aloft
in innocent roselight, easy dismissed
despite sympathy's shallow strikes sharp against figurative skin.
©sweepingly
S