Wednesday, 8 February 2012

Tuesday Poem: "It Will Always Be"

the soft white parchment
of your skin
on which I write my desire,
the sensual prow
of your hips
which steers me homeward,
the sun-warmed wine press
of your thighs
that urges the juices from my skin,
the billowing clouds
of your breasts
that obscure me from the mundane,
the fragrant garden
of your mouth
from which I drink a heady scent,
my heart that you hold in your hand.

Sorry for the late posting, but I've been sick the last two days with a stomach bug.

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