Olivia Chevron


You say you want to paint me
In shades of blue,
A pointed flame.
You study my body,
My lines, my shame,
Then sign me off
With your artist’s name.
You say you want to play me
Like a harp
With tunely strings,
The music of angels, fairies and kings,
With and without their opaque wings.
You say you want to sing me
In alt, soprano, bass.
You say you want to drink me,
In wine. A glass. A case.
You say you want to sculpt me
In clay and stone and rock.
You say you want to eat me
Cooked with spices in a wok.
You want to be
A part of me.
You want to be
Inside of me.
I say to you
before we start:
You have my love.
You have my heart.
Wednesday 9 November 2005

All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Olivia Chevron.
Published on e-Stories.org on 12/21/2005.


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