my feeble hands still hold you
in the tightest embrace of my heart
my weak eyes still see you
with the sharpest gaze of my inner eye
my odourless nostrils still smell you
like an animal sensing a track
my tasteless lips still feel you
while you never were and always have been
the sharpest ears can hear yours
the softest melody released by your voice
I can’t wait to get the full spectrum
of your abilities never revealed
---
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You can find more poems, stories, and articles by Mescaline Brisset on my Vocal profile. The art of creation never ends.
About the Creator
Moon Desert
UK-based
BA in Cultural Studies
Crime Fiction: Love
Poetry: Friend
Psychology: Salvation
Where wild roses grow full of words...
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