Contributor: Simon Whittle

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sculpt the language of love
in your glance
the harmony of silence
i give into the earth of your eyes
like craters, mysterious and infinite
i am yours

wage the language of grace
in your call
the tone like waves crashing into my heart
your mouth is all i see
the curve of your Cupid's bow
after all, the emojis are molded after your smile

erase the perception of time
with your fingers
sweep the canvass of my skin
like a current hijacking all my senses
but you touch me all so harmlessly
and, i am bound to your charms


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Simon Whittle lives with his husband in Canada. If he's not painting, then he's writing stories. He runs a blog via WordPress with his best friend sharing happy, amusing, and sad anecdotes and poetry.