A Poem A Day, Poem #50

what is the poetry in a distance,
the colors and the shapes of your
hours? how does time count your
petals away, measure the meaning
hidden up and down the length
of your legs?

there are answers in your art, but
shhh shadows cover all your kisses
that might, maybe, lie lazily across
your face for teasing the lights with
possibly perfect sex smiles and
sneers

and the slow recognition of the
softest lines bent and sprayed by
your silhouette are something as
quiet and deliberate as a breath
pushing a whisper from a secret

but there are theories that travel
the distance of the heart and the
mysteries you make are as white
and perfect as the hope i hang
on this poem