Ibecame

Skin... the hearts offer
Consider the warm marble
My love.

Michelangelo was your father
The curling wave your mother

I begged his  gift  you formed ,with naked lost eyes,
But it was you who sculpted,
with deep sensuous circles  of molten earth
You gave birth to stone and ..... I became
The child of your dancing fingers.
Water turned wine in your lips.
A gentle flower , coaxed from the impenetrable stone.
I was Michelangelo...... with your eyes
I sought your form
But found myself.