Hands like the Edisto

Edisto River

Your hands
like the silver-gilded, tea-stained water
of the rivers of my world,
slide over this landscape,
gentling each hill,
smoothing each furrow,
walking each crevasse.

form a new chamber in my heart,
set it beating to your rhythm.
my hair grows to meet your touch.
my ears receive a shower of tears
where the wash of salt dissolves
hardened scales.

You enter my eyes
flooding my brain with colors
imperceptible in the light,
indivisible in the dark,
penetrating a gray world
and replacing it with white.


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