My touch reached you
Between worlds, you told me —
You felt me there as soft cirrus
Searching wisps that drifted
Through the doors of consciousness
Changing as they went
My fingers were, perhaps, songs
Planes of my skin
A blend of shifting colors
Pulsing through your light, transcendent form
I, awake in this world
Waited solid
My slow stroke
Inviting your return.
©Wendy Mulhern
March 13, 2012
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