Free Verse # 385 (tucking her hair behind her ear)

This poem
a river loitering
in a strange land
waiting for one glance
from your eyes
to begin its journey
into the heart of the sea.


paper boats
across infinity
between you and me.


Photographer unknown

In the silence
of my soul
my poem
is a solitude sailing
on a journey
of no return
ever deeper
into you,
all the oceans
with one voice calling,
you the port
where my sail rests
in the house
of eternity.


Here I am,
it is cold again,
and in the white wind
my heart
is a red coal burning
with the fire
of your name.


Your breasts –
late autumn apples,
sun laden figs,
and my mouth
fed upon their milk
whispers in soft sighs


My poem
a fern branch
into your forest
of white silence


On the silent ledge
above the sea
of dawn
I wait,
my hands
a poem of stars
ripening your name
into a dewy pour
on the eyelids
of the earth.


Night, rain, soul ache,
and the solitude of the world
sitting with you
as you read
to a burning candle
a book of poetry.


Breaths exchanged
over a book
and two cups
of jasmine green tea,
his fingers tucking her hair
behind her ear,
and their looks
in each other drifting,
birds flying through mist
over the endless sea.


A sudden heat
rose in her veins
as though a new blood
entered her;
somewhere in the distance
in the shade of flowers
his ink was burning
as it wrote her name.


The many books
still to read,
kisses to share
and poems to bleed,
before winter
the curtain draws,
and lays me to rest
in the white of sleep.


Mouth against mouth
let us drain
this poem-sun
to its last drop,
drunk and laughing
let us spin
this world sober
in the womb of our love.


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