Buckets

Your soft hands and
Pink nails hard as
Razor knives trace
Shadows down my back.
Fountains of love spray
Life giving current
When your nails penetrate and
White light stream is
Given me by an angel
Bearing rivers of water.
A light bringer to a
Parched village of lonely
Refugees.
Running from desolation
To bathe in your
White water dazzling
Buckets.

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2 Comments

Filed under poem, poetry

2 responses to “Buckets

  1. To bathe in your white water dazzling buckets , oh god man what can I say. Great image.

    Liked by 1 person

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