Your beauty, nude
not naked on the bed,
is far more a gift
than I ever expected.
I watch languor recline
1n your wise grey eyes
while slate hummingbirds
carved as earrings
dangle from golden hooks.
I quiver in your breath
and the ceiling fan halts
in that instant.
We look at one another
with both eyes open and close.
An intimate wind,
the cause of auroras,
moves north and south,
east and west,
then we swim
into one another.
“Not Naked on the Bed” by Timothy Young from Building in Deeper Water. © The Thousands Press, 2003. (buy now)
HemmingPlay 
Interesting use of words in that poem distinguishing between the beauty of the nude rather than naked.
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I thought so too. One can be naked but it takes the eyes of love to see the intimate things.
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Surrealism at it’s best the picture is amazing and your words sublime. Thank you. 😇
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Thank you. I keep finding new writers, which has been an unexpected side benefit of this blogging/writing gig. Timothy Young is good, isn’t he? He captures that special feeling between lovers so well.
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He does and yes the writers here are varied and wonderful to connect with. 😇
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Brilliant!
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