The naked wind alights
upon my skin upon her skin;
of tepid tea my tongue
remembers.
I write these words to end a tanka.
In a brace of extra lines –
my hand, around her finger.
Image credit – Dan Heller
The naked wind alights
upon my skin upon her skin;
of tepid tea my tongue
remembers.
I write these words to end a tanka.
In a brace of extra lines –
my hand, around her finger.
Image credit – Dan Heller
william altoft 