indulgent
just enough of salt and honey going down
a turning of all skin into a fingerprint
to touch, a mark leaving
dent in space, in time
a coming together and apart of all color
in black and in white
too, what is between
a going up not without a going down
to nowhere but here
ah! indulging is a dance of these rounded
markings on moon colored
paper, shone under mysterious lights of day
sitting with your mind upon your gaze
nowhere but here
simple, it might be
the weight of the right answer
to the equal question
some silent a whisper of music’s call
to soul
nowhen but now
where it ever happens
© Engaisi Peter 2023. All rights reserved.
I thank you for lending your precious minutes to indulge (wink) in my words. If you’ve liked this, you might also enjoy my other work:
