Free Verse # 161 (High on her forehead I lay my kiss)

Happiness ~
a flower blooming under countless stars
in the heart of the desert,
giving away at dawn.

~

Your painterly hands wield me,
dip me in love’s ocean
then raise me,
a burning brush,
a rainbow of all colours,
with which you paint,
in subtle, endless strokes
the face of the earth.

~

Like a flower which essence reveals itself to a single butterfly or bee—so your perfume, to me.

~

My hands over your face pass
like the thawing winds of spring,
pregnant with new scents
revived from the womb of the earth.

~

Her hair ~
dark wine flowing down
bare shoulders,
ripples of crimson fire,
of autumn leaves
blowing in the sky.

~

The sun, moon, and stars she commands.
She points her finger, they swerve and bend.

~

The wind carries to my bed
the shards of light
of a dawn blooming
just beyond the mountain,
and I drown
in the scent of you.

~

High on her forehead
I lay my kiss,
at that spot where
the dream-wheel spins
and, like a spring charged
with eternal blossoms,
I burst under her skin.

~

Each dawn
a white blossoming flower
I kiss from your lips,
ferment it inside of me
and, at dusk, pour it back into your mouth,
a honey burning softly.

~

A warm body in night’s ocean
can only collect his moistness—
and we, united gently,
become his untamed ocean,
glitter with his stars.

~

Your each kiss
ever more voraciously
feeds at my words,
eroding me into a sea of silence,
raising me, a full moon
in the ocean of your womb.

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