Fingertips touching, Michelangelo helped God
create Adam with wet plaster and pigment,
adding depth and shadow to Adam’s
swelling lungs, shaping the divine.
Each stroke languid, but precise, each cut gentle.
What reflection did Michelangelo imagine as he scraped
across God’s cheek? What terrible
compassion, arms outreached.
How can you not see my calligraphy,
mapping red sinopia across your pages?
My letters etched across stomach and chest,
down an arm, a toe.
Brushstroke by brushstroke,
pen and ink, I write you.
Fresco hardens in twelve hours,
your pages dry in minutes.
Kim Malinowski graduated with her B.A. in English from West Virginia University and earned her M.F.A. from American University. She is currently a student of The Writers Studio. Her poems have appeared in Souvenir, Mad Poets Review, and anthologies by Kind of a Hurricane Press, and are forthcoming from War, Literature & the Arts, as well as others.