Free Verse # 381 (sea of moss, sea of stars)

Body against body
we wrestled all night,
each soldered movement
a brushstroke
painting our lust
an offering on the altar
of the burning moon.


She read his poem at morn
and it clang to her lips all day long,
taking her by surprise
every now and then
as if she was being kissed breathless,
as if she was being taken
on the altar of love.


Beyond the passion
and the cataclysm of fire
we were two flowers
silently opening to one another,
singing the eternal song.


to the solitary dawn
I turn again
and move along my way,
the way of thorns and pebbles,
the desert way
in the poem’s heart.


Here the road ends
and the light
at the end of the world
dawns in my eyes,
here my heart is a garden
blooming with poems
no lips will drink,
blooming with flowers
no one will smell.


Artist unknown

Cocooned in poetry
into the mountain of fire
we vanished,
the slow burn of our moans
smoke seeping
on the fervent wind,
arousing the world.


On her inside
his poem grew,
sea of moss,
sea of stars,
an infinite touch
sweeping through;
and when she quivered
suddenly and without reason,
when up along her spine
shivers incessantly travelled,
when she found her thighs
trembling with ache,
the softness of their canvas
she knew
that inside of her
he is growing,
swelling tidal
with softness and rage,
and that his moss and stars
will soon cover her body,
sheathing her inside a skin
of fervent poetry.

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