You spoke to me in tongues

My body ached to speak that way.

When you touched me my bones sang.

In the burnt ashes of the fire, I tasted a stone

and found it sweet.

I knew you were only my temporary


I could feel our paths…



Lynne Thompson

I always wrote (first poem at 6 years old). Tech writer by trade. I have a podcast The Storied Human: see my linktree —