She read <br />my closed eyelids <br /> <br />with the slightest <br />of touches <br /> <br />sculpts <br />my open lips <br /> <br />with the soft tip <br />of a little finger <br /> <br />an open palm <br />cupping my cheekbone <br /> <br />as if it were precious <br />porcelain <br /> <br />a wrist <br />hold back <br /> <br />a flow of hair <br /> <br />curls escaping <br />through her finger. <br /> <br />She arranges <br />& re-arranges <br /> <br />my smile <br /> <br />creates its <br />laughter <br /> <br />her fingerprints <br />all over <br /> <br />whorl upon whorl <br />me <br /> <br />a thumbprint <br />left over like a potter <br /> <br />on an eyebrow <br /> <br />touch upon touch <br />upon touch <br /> <br />butterflies <br />and yet more <br />butterflies <br /> <br />my granny <br />in her blindness <br /> <br />reading me <br />with her fingers <br /> <br />bringing me <br />into being <br /> <br />with a wave of her <br />hand.' ' ' ' '<br /><br />Dónall Dempsey<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/all-seeing-eye-for-scarlet/
