Chiaroscuro

Don’t move a muscle;
to capture the very essence
of you – all I want...
depict your contours
your rise and your fall
in soft charcoal.

I want to harness
the sound of your laughter;
make diamonds from raindrops
and then to savour it –
wrap it in finest muslin,
keep it safe inside a drawer

then take it out
when the skin of the day
breaks open; hear it beg for air
as I hold it tight between
my palms.

I want to watch it
spread its wings – ready
to fly; want to tell it not to be afraid,
it has no need to tremble
at my touch...Slip it

between the pages of a book
so I don’t lose it; the one
with gold tooling
at the side of my bed.
Much written there...
between the lines,
about right and wrong.