across the spanish tile
it is a point somewhere near the
gates of sleep
,
the muscles have let go their hold
the body mostly forgotten
,
a silk of yellows and reds
cover the sight
.
she walks gently across the spanish
tile
trying not to disturb
,
her steps a breeze
taking away thoughts
,
replacing with floating peace
.
she slips beside
as a coiled snake
,
her hands finding the center
her breath hot on the neck
,
bringing the calming effects of security
and the violet visions of slumber
.