How many times my eyes must speak,
of promises to be exact.
A wish that longs to be confirmed
That dawns from passion’s deep abstract
What fate besets this weary soul?
That tide of warmth that leaves it limp.
A sliver, pale, with moon between
A small degree of trembled lips.
Communion tasting of the soul,
A breath bestowed upon the rim
A secret told with lashing tongue,
Desires bare in synonyms.
Not every passion holds a stage,
With lighting dim and focus marked.
With sought fruition well-rehearsed,
In fleeting moments after dark.
But on that dark stage, I see her eyes
The same eyes worn like candle glint.
Betwixt the murk I find myself
Obeying love with subtle hints
I feel the nerve-ends start to sting
As synchronized our breath submits,
And in that fluent stillness rests
such mouths of two, in molten kiss
One hundred times if only one
How long it lasts we shan’t discuss
The pain I felt from time apart
I grieve; it seems superfluous.
Again I am imprisoned here
A heart with more arrhythmic beats
I long, I miss, the parallels
My echoed pulse on fast repeat.
I gazed upon her flawless cheek
We tuned our breaths so they can speak
Our souls were wet with clarity.
My fingers slid between her hairs
provocative like lyric porn
as all mouths just fade away,
our lips draw near, like lightning storms—
endowed by speech deprived of words
the language borne with inhaled sighs.
How beats can skip their labeled step
and each trice devoid her lips I die.
That lovely pause between each breath
That infinitesimal gasp for air
Explore I must, in every depth
The place your skin was left for bare
I cupped her chin and tilted forth
Wanting now to claim her soul
Deepening with every kiss
The gravity incredible
I know I’m not the first to trace
The pathways towards her inner sighs
But be my lips the last to taste
and trace the skin so near her eyes.
Each time I gaze that bureau top
My thoughts awry, my soul amiss
I graze that picture when my soul
Got lost within her lingered kiss.