Archives :: Doug Tanoury
Wings
Appeared in the 1999-2004 issue.
Touching her in darkness
My hands fly
Across her skin like winged things
Hovering for a moment
Then gliding in sweeping motions
That rise and dive to follow her form
Aerial in their grace
Ethereal in movement
And when they come to rest
Like a bird upon a perch
They are weightless
And she feels only a fluttering
A brush of feathers
Across her flesh
On a night
When touch became sight
View bio information and additional poems published in Half Drunk Muse on the author's main archive page.
Copyright 1999-2008 Doug Tanoury.