Her skin
A river of vaporous sighs
Drunk with the memory
Of his lost touch,
Home.
~
Like a ship at sea
They held each other,
Waves against their keel breaking
As they sailed,
Open to the sky.
~
Her eyes,
Fangs injecting
Silence for a venom,
Its fever absolute.
~
His hands a river
To perfection sculpting her,
The poem of dawn.
~
May poetry be the balm which, applied to your lips, is then burned into my skin…
~
She wanted him to envelop her
As the night devours all,
Be the womb in which she drowns,
Heady with an endless fall.
~
His touch within her swelled
And night was a kiss
Embalming her whole
~
Her perfume
In his flesh
A burning blade
~
He kissed her
And the embers of his breath
Danced upon her tongue,
Travelled deeper
To fall in burning letters
Upon the mad pages of her heart.
~
Her open thighs
A virginal womb
Wet from dawn’s embrace,
And he the sun god
Into her spilling
His river of lustful flames.
~
Curving in his embrace,
In the welter of his heartbeats
Lost, and found,
A belonging deeper
Than the beginnings of time.
~
His each touch
An eddy of stars
Whirling in her skin
~
The fog upon my skin
A cool hand undressing in me
An ageless touch,
A flower older than time’s memory
Bathed in the waters
Of our sacred kiss.
~
Moments in time,
A breath of dewdrops
Fading in the sun.
~
A poem
Perched like the moon
On the shoulder of dawn
Rooted in Love 