Whole and tumbling at speed,
etched, immortalised in memory—
our secret longing,
with fingertips touching, offering always.
Time bends in the hush between heartbeats,
a silent surrender to the weight of wanting,
where light spills across open palms,
and shadows stretch toward the horizon,
never quite reaching, never quite fading.
The wind carries whispers too fragile to hold,
threading through the spaces left behind,
where touch lingers like an unspoken vow,
a language of skin, of presence, of knowing—
an echo of what we are, of what we will always be.
-
Author:
crypticbard (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: May 27th, 2025 00:44
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 57
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, BlessedbyGod, Cheeky Missy
Offline)
Comments15
Wonderful words arqios showing us that the smallest things in our lives can bring such pleasure.
Andy
Indeed they do, thanks Andy🙏🏻🕊️
Good write A.
Thanks O🙏🏻🕊️
What we always be, that's a fighting thought, have a great week
And the fight goes on, thanks PL 🙏🏻🕊️
You are very welcome, sorry I meant frightning, eye sight bad today
Frightening too 🤩🕊️🙏🏻
I can't grasp the 'always', the moment felt sufficient for me.
...an ever moment strung along is good as always or so it would seem 🙏🏻🕊️
It's your call - I think you are right.
Haha, nah mate... just random thoughts. 💭🕊️🙏🏻
This reads so elegantly. I see two people who love each other communicating with touch. An enjoyable read compadre
Now that is an excellent reading. Thank you for sharing compadre🙏🏻🕊️
Cryptic your poems are always filled with deeper meaning and this one required three readings to peel away layers. There is a haunting but ephemeral feel to this poem that reaches out from the shadows and takes the hand of the reader. It begs for another reading and further enlightenment. There are great lines here (The wind carries whispers too fragile to hold) and whole stanzas the like honey are viscous each word pulling one to the next. In each reading new meaning appears and that is the measure of a great work of art. Loved it a fave
Thanks Soren. That is so encouraging to hear. It's really hard when your voice is not always fully accepted. Most grateful. 🙏🏻🕊️
Is it accepted or just not understood? Many do not see the hours that go into the details that go into a poems crafting so as to lay in metaphor or symbol a meaning that then goes overlooked. And with it being glanced over the beauty of the piece and sometimes its entire meaning.
Oh yeah, "understood" is a better term. It wouldn't be logical to expect others to accept all our opinions. Thanks again. 🙏🏻🕊️
Beautiful and evocative. Well done!
Thanks Salvia🕊️🙏🏻
Great piece my friend , i can absolutely relate to a time that once was and that will forever be etched in my heart mind and echo of a particular persons touch , love it
Thanks kindly, you are most appreciated 🙏🏻🕊️
In those unspoken moments, "the language of skin," promises are made that must be kept. The wind does not forget. Your poem explicates the intimacy of lovers; the communication made without words. Loved it. - Phil A.
Thanks Phil, good to see love transmitted in many ways🙏🏻🕊️
Rik
fine write
Thanks heaps; means so much 🙏🏻🕊️
most welcome
Fantastic work.
Thanks Thomas🙏🏻🕊️
Oh me! To read this delicacy aloud, as poetry is to be properly treated, is an experience which seems to cull swooning, until I nearly faint in concluding. Beautifully rendered with exquisite imagery and a delicious poignancy. Thank you so very much for sharing. I love it.
A most honoured privilege to share, thanks 🙏🏻🕊️
Great words, arqios. Some wonderful imagery. Nicely done.
Thanks Tom, much appreciated 🙏🏻🕊
Moments so beautifully penned 🔥✍️🙇♂️
What I thought would always be is no more. Nicely written.
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