Ink in print
       words draw
our attention to letters
       to lines
to shapes
       on the page

India ink
       on white vellum
the supple document
       of her skin
upon which
       I trace the syllables
love and now
       and forever

some inkling she has
       of the messages
my fingertips drum
       on her bones
signals that urgently
       alert her breath
as love pulses
       through her veins
and desire thrusts her
       into battle
and her pale lips
       gorge on oxygen

John Lyons