Our eyes were inseparable as we locked into a dance
One where you spoke in syllables that hardly touched my ear drum
My hands caressed what exposed soul draped upon my sense
To tempt me into an embrace that scratched my reminisce
From here there was much to decide, discussion upon forefront
Which way to take the night: affluent or exertion
Mind made up I hastened to amore so gently laid
And gasped as thy hand embraced the loins of my last breath.
Tag: syllable
The Bane of Fullness (day 2470)
I don’t want to hold onto this enormous feeling.
A Skeptic once said the past isn’t present,
So let us believe that a fullness isn’t real
(A limit we reach where we can no longer give, share, believe),
Let this feeling take us on a tenderness stroll
Like sheer cotton shading giant pillows we lounge upon,
Meandering through ancient streets and wild forests
Where we stop at every third park bench we pass
To sit closely and pretend we’re still consciously speaking
In syllables that reason can understand and explain,
For to me your words speak in gestures only my ears
– And perhaps the dear sweet Cupid who so cleverly pinned us –
Can fully grasp at, mingled so heavily with vibrant lips
My eyes cannot escape being entranced by,
And breath mine hairs can feel so warmly upon
With your gentle yet firm fingers ever so delicately
Squeezing a new pattern into mine palm of eternity.
I want to hold onto you, the back of your neck with softest of curls
As our lips mean to share what we’ve intoned of a feeling,
Forgetting for brief moments our shooting star madness
And living a while longer by the bane of our senses.