Free Verse # 240 (sifting her to the core)

His poem, a fragrant wisp curled around her neck.

~

Your lips are made for smiling
And I swear, I swear,
Your tears I’ll kiss and kiss
Until each, along their supple curves,
Blossoms into a full moon,
Wetting them deep
With the white of ecstasy.

~

One sensual stream
Hewn into two bodies
You and I,
Swirling serpentine
And frothing,
Droplets of pure lust,
A furnace of desire.

~

From her dimples down low
To the nape of her neck
His poem
A welter of wild waves
Surging naked, feral,
Sifting her to the core,
From her womb shaking
Star and moan
And with burning fervour hurling them
Into the abyss of his soul,
Each to ripple a thousandfold
The desire which as one
Made them unfold.

~

Damp upon my skin
The breath seeping from her lips,
A gray cloud, weeping.

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