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Kaitlyn Alizabeth Pijanowski

Fingerprint

A thousand grooves made nude
is nothing but a Lover's maze.
I ravish every turn in absolute.
Designed to never temper
and seemingly untouched -
Each time a new unknown
and every avenue unused.
Safety in the form of rims and ridges
Grown soft by our abandon.
I trace on you your every printed strand -
My love both born and buried in your hand.

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If Not

One cannot love
If not with entirety-
Its conception desperate
and nurtured by divine.
One cannot love
if not with haunting reverence -
Its fever fueled by prohecy,
an exquisite crimson flush.
One cannot love
If not with sure conviction -
its temperament unwavering,
Unseasoned by hypocrisy.
One cannot love
If not with immortality -
Its currency of old,
But never less, a paragon of gold.

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In Color

I saw you hidden there, the passage green -
Made bold against concrete.
Softer than a brush,
Your skin to touch.
And so, I let mine fall.
My fingers needed reason as they yearned
but hesitancy
Never lived within your hands.
And when you moved within me,
I swear I saw the colors dance
Across the wood.
We were a dream - alive -
in painted play.
Together, found the beauty
from our every given shade -
For in darkness, we found love
but in color, it was made.

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When the Forest Calls

The day you choose to veer
Is when the woods will beckon you -
Calling with its intrigue,
A seduction into wander.
It sings a song of pleasure -
The siren's tempting melody.
It has been, in patience, waiting
Designing every path
to look of purpose.
It will whisper pleasantries
And flattery
Until the treetops hide the moon.
And soon, reminding darkness
comes to mock you.
And the stripping bark will coon
its consequence -
Forest never was a host to mercy.
You frenzy for direction
but the gourd is fast asleep.
On which side is the moss supposed to grow?

[...] Read more

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