An Art of Reflection

Little feather glide across my skin,
fingers trace along visible ribs,
two of the same,
both a tease.

The sea so deep and blue,
eyes gazed into like a crystal ball,
so beautifuley blue.

What lace unravels,
hands unknot,
no such thing,
a myth this is,
twine together,
hold this delicate art as one.

--All Poems by Tia E
Copyrighted