Spring loaded with my fingers caught between your bones, my soul -- undulating smoke in your glass bottle chest; you breathe and I stir. Silently our shadows have conspired, Rorschach lips drawing nearer still, twin ghosts of ink waiting to dance as a single silhouette against the burning, white stage-light moonrise. I ache, from the sensation of your hair against my neck, of your eyes ascending my spine, then your hips tangling with mine until our skin burns red and our lungs transmit breath only in the shape of each others names. Desire knows nothing of my need... Take me, bend me at your will as my shape may fit within the curving crescent of your sleeping body, of your beating heart, of your perfect, pink kiss. You are a flightless angel of weary wings, a heart drumming with love cannot be caged, a soul once introduced to its mate, can never be locked down, shackled or chained... Love guides the heart to where it desperately longs to be, to where it yearns to go only to discover that you already know the way.
Posted on: Wed, 31 Jul 2013 14:00:56 +0000
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