Two Poems and Art, by Stephen Mead.
'Til the Room
is light, let us make shapes,
these limbs a brighter darkness
with sparks from the depths of skin,
immense & red, all pores a melted
Can't I read by your glow?
Can't you catch sight from the braille
Surface to surface, the multi-textured &
The tasting is breathing sound out of a
Shared instrument, is becoming one
Picasso guitar-body, & the notes are
Only air holding us, we, radiance itself,
Learning to lift, pull closer, a dance of
Hands, fingers just tracing to play time
& by this be carried
Stephen Mead is a writer/artist living in northeastern NY.
His home page, with resume and art samples, can be found at http://www.123soho.com/member/mead
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