Laced With Silver

Under the branches of crape myrtle I spread a carpet,
lavender flowers on my crumpled stole bloomed when I was kissed the first time. 
                                                                       I turned away,                                  
his lips brushed my cheeks and his fingers clasped me like a man

sinking.
Amethyst was the colour I remember of the evening thick with
nodules of mulberries. The touch,
 
softness of the skin was the radiant light that spun patterns blinding,
as jasmine flowers drowned me in its raunchy pungency. Just for the flowers
I remember the evening,
               not for the kiss

that did not gather the moon beams that was so abundant that night, it didn’t even
gather the pale greenness from the stalks of flowers crushed beneath us.   

(Written to the prompt from We Write Poems)                              

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8 thoughts on “Laced With Silver

  1. A genuine delight to read Uma. Yes, yes, I love how subtle the scents as you present them here, yet still vivid, maybe even more real than if you taken the obvious easy routes. Sometimes the scents come as a surprise, unexpected of their source, yet there they are, unmistakable.

    “lavender flowers on my crumpled stole bloomed” and “the stalks of flowers crushed” were just two of my favorite image phrases. Each like a half step away from the obvious. Beautiful.

    And the ending sequence, oh yes, gathers, reinvokes how the whole poem delivers its’ images. Very ripe and rich. Thank you for all of this.

    neil

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