Are We Meant to Play With Mystery?

We are

mischievous children,

reaching for what

we cannot see;

leaving auric prints

upon each mystery

we finger;

like molecules of skin

which stick in the hands

of warmly greeted strangers

or mingle during loving acts

between familiars.

                                                                             Christine Irving©

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One Comment on “Greetings”

  1. mkg Says:

    Chris –
    What a welcoming poem – sort of sticks in the hands. I can’t wait to see more.

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