Most of the times,
I feel,
that you and I,
my darling,
redefine our love on
Saturday nights.
Saturday nights,
when the sound of our
heartbeats mixes with the wine.
When you swerve your hips,
to the tunes on the old gramophone.
When every streetlight seems like a shooting star.
Passionate,
wild,
mad,
in it's very essence.
Chaotic,
extraordinary
and beautiful,
define you,
my love.
You breathtakingly
naked and beautiful soul,
is the gateway to the Universe.
Swooning and high off
your fragrance,
all I want to do is
make love with you,
till the yearning moon
gives way to the jealous sun.
Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 1:31 AM UTC
Most of the times,
I feel,
that you and I,
my darling,
redefine our love on
Saturday nights.
Saturday nights,
when the sound of our
heartbeats mixes with the wine.
When you swerve your hips,
to the tunes on the old gramophone.
When every streetlight seems like a shooting star.
Passionate,
wild,
mad,
in it's very essence.
Chaotic,
extraordinary
and beautiful,
define you,
my love.
You breathtakingly
naked and beautiful soul,
is the gateway to the Universe.
Swooning and high off
your fragrance,
all I want to do is
make love with you,
till the yearning moon
gives way to the jealous sun.
Request permission to use this poem