Soul of the Sole

Sonnet Gravina

Soul of the Sole

Playfully, she reaches for me. I am preferred above all others. Her hand touching me softly, I am her chosen one.

I make my way from the darkness, Sleek and sexy, flaunting my curves. Indulging, caressing my supple flesh, Sliding slowly on for the perfect fit.

I am Italian artistry at its finest. The color of the new moon on a clear night. Leather chiseled into clean lines Heel tapering down to barely touch the ground.

Pulses of faraway lands Once traveled through me. Now I cross berber and tile daily, Tapping in monotony, as the sole wears away.