As we dance silently …
Our bodies touch, I feel your heat on my
chest and your scent arrest’s me in a state
of excitement, as my hands slowly move
around your waist and brush against your
hips ever so slowly, spinning me into the
captive wheel before us.
We are in sync as the clay spins ever so
slowly, and our hands create with every
slow turn, while the softness of the clay
on our fingertips moves up to the palms
of our hands, where we sweat with every
twist and turn and rub of each other’s
The creation before us is only offset by
our soft caress, as my chin rest’s on your
neck I feel the pulse of your life under it,
and am excited by every beat of your heart
on mine, as it pulsates against the heavenly
oily scent that radiates pearls of sweat
down the nape of your neck, teasing my
hot breath there and making it dance and
screaming for more.
Just as the most peaceful still water can
change its reflection, or the simplest hum
of a hummingbird can stir excitement,
we as young lovers together like this
can reflect t our soft skin on each other
and be bathed and colored by a simple
mold of clay in each other’s hands.
As we dance silently lifting, rubbing
and shaping our lives are entwined in
lust for our art as we are twisted in this
labyrinth of sensations as we continue
to rest our hand on that hard roundness
and shape it to our desire.
Let us slide down the thin passageway
of time, as we drift and dream in each
other’s arms, touching deep with our
fingertips as we explore what lies before
us on this wheel of time. Let us drink
our love for one another in this bliss of
molded clay, as the water thickens
before us and turns to wine to caress our
lips and quench our lustful desire for
each other this night in front of the wheel.
© Copyright by Vincent Moore. All rights reserved
He was born and raised in Montreal Canada among the Irish, Brits, Italians and French. Point St Charles (commonly called The Point) was the Hell’s kitchen of Montreal. He played, cried, laughed and fought on the street corners, survival was an instinct and watching each others back important. Vincent left home at 17 to find his way in the world, failure and success he had plenty of. He studied the Arts and loved to draw and paint. Took acting lessons and envied those on the stage under the bright lights and hoped to some day become an actor, writer, playwright or painter. Vincent welcomes you to his world of mystery, fantasy and solitude. You can find a few of his writings in one of 3 books he's published.In Absinthia- In Melancholia and In Passionata.