A Moment of Imagination

Tis but a moment of imagination, or is it

When the veil has grown thin and lackadaisical

That which resides on the other side visible

Visions seep through in an ethereal liquidity

Like an erotic summoning, my transfixation

Thoughts take the form of whispering visions

Clarity nothing more than careful stability

The aphrodisiac of dream land beckons

In sights where passion requires no action

One hand reaches while the other remains

The pureness of the touch so shimmering

Flowing colors swirl and dance and float

The splinter of your mind’s eye revealed

And still I’m fixated by what I see and hear

Details emerging in a sharp murkiness

Complexities of colors and changing eyes

Locks of brown billowing in an unseen breeze

An ample fullness, a softness like no other

Supple lips continuously moving, smiling

Somewhere between a word and phrase

Yet no utterance has been delivered

The wellspring of warmth intensifies

A union of two worlds, physical and beyond

Closer the moment and closer the intensity

What ignites can be described by no word

For the sides leave nothing behind

Every ounce of energy pooled and primed

When the crossing finally clears the release

The lips of a man touch those of a goddess

And all as is it should be

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R J Schwartz

I write about everything and sometimes nothing at all.I'm fascinated by old things, rusty things, abandoned places, or anywhere that a secret might be unearthed.I'm passionate about history and many of my pieces are anchored in one concept of time or another.I've always been a writer, dating back to my youth, but the last decade has been a time of growth for me.I'm continually pushing the limitations of vocabulary, syntax, and descriptive phrasing.

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