Indian Paintbrush

2

Indian Paintbrush

Indian Paintbrush 

Like the cat who sleeps 
on my bed, you lie curled 
in the warmth my body left. 

You linger in my hair, in my 
perfume. The covers keep 
your rare orchid in memory. 

The bed breathes
when I’m not in it, waiting
like silver water for me.

I’ll slip in again, to rouse
your purring belly with the
sun-stone of my hand.

2 Comments
  1. Avatar of Andrew J. Sacks
    Andrew J. Sacks says

    Maria, lovely and fine work. Thank you.

  2. Avatar of Maria Costello
    Maria Costello says

    Thank you for your feedback, Andrew! It means a lot to me. 🙂

Leave A Reply

Your email address will not be published.

This website uses cookies to improve your experience. We'll assume you're ok with this, but you can opt-out if you wish. Accept

Angie's Diary