my lover equates me with my favorite instrument;
running his fingers down the strings of my flesh,
building tension and release as he sees fit.
the movement of our lips almost quantized
to match each other’s harmony.
every taste he acquires from me is
another texture added to his collection of sounds.
I want to let him know
that he can learn me to my very core
and play me to his heart’s content
like a cherub playing the harp
as he ascends the heavens.
May 7, 2024
May 7, 2024 at 3:13 AM UTC
interwoven hands,
they walk side by side
along the lane of sand.
beyond the retreating waves,
everything else is hushed;
the sense of isolation, of
being away from the hour’s rush
makes for a breathing space.
“the whole world is waiting for us,” she says.
“let them,” is his response.
“the world belongs to us.”
and it did.
May 6, 2024
May 6, 2024 at 11:50 AM UTC