Verve
Touch is fingertips’ ken flutter: this skin.
Sight is an altar, time altered: this verve.
Taste is gospels’ succulent kin: this yen
a soufflé scent on air, breeze genesis.
Sound whirls wind within an ocean island curve.
Touch is fingertips’ ken flutter: this skin
enfolds pulse within an adapt heart hidden,
binds blinded blood jabbered in vain reverb.
Taste is gospels’ succulent kin: this yen
whiffs of dusk and dawn, instinct in a sin.
Be born, deserve, beget, begot, bygone;
touch is fingertips’ ken flutter: this skin
a campfire sky of celestial sequin.
Know the loneliness of tombstones, this nerve;
taste is gospels’ succulent kin: this yen
for faith seeded in cores not eaten, not bitten;
faith plucked, bailed, planted, from ash to herb.
Touch is fingertips’ ken flutter: this skin:
taste is gospels’ succulent kin: this yen.
Victoria Elizabeth Ruwi survived three major battles with cancer and began writing poetry. Her book, Eyewhispers, is a bold, poetic journey through her experiences.
Thin Air Magazine 