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"Bright Light Antiquated, Thunder Roll Anticipated" by R. Craig David-part 1 to the 2018 romance series

Sometimes when unsure souls are apart, hearts go dark,

finding bitter-sweet sorrow in the depart.

Unconsciously staying far away from "them and they" who filled and smashed then cast away our jars from back then to present day.

In all despite,

in a moment of might,

You walk into my sight,

Suspending the win of "them and their" sins.

It's effortless for me to give in,

the chase begins again.

In spite, it doesn't feel like a chase,

it just feels right.

 

Smile so sweet,

our eyes meet,

it's like a lightning strike...head to feet.

Hits me like a glowing, white hot flash of tingling electricity,

blinding bright,

striking right down from the heavens like a craggily branch of pure flowing energy piercing my heart and soul,

then surging through every electrical current-driven nerve cell my body holds.

I magnetize to the earth, unable to move, frozen in time…

Grounded as thunder following clasps in the distance.

 

Staring at your sparking seducing silhouette,

then hips,

then lips,

then surmising eyes,

then smile advancing pace towards me in the street.

A rare chance for us to meet.

The same Lightning strikes twice.

I feel the tingle spiring up to my face,

the sly and subtle serendipity strike setting the pace, the time, the place.

 

 

My fears are flushed,

I feel heat blush,

I wish you to rush.

Race,

closer to touch.

The instant innocent "Crush" is much.

 

You enter my personal space,

Smiling a mile wide.

You close in until my place is touched and encased by your hair softly falling around your eyes and face.  

Lightning strikes thrice.

I sense my helpless demise as my heart takes the stage,

Opening night,

Act one,

Scene one,

Cue the thunder.

Will I be undone in this serendipitous theater of surprise or hearts unwon?

 

Dropped from the highest point,

the largest stone smashes down and holds back all that once made me feel alone.

My soul runs unto to your connection,

our necks connect.

I smell your skin's convection.

Time alignment correction.

The earth is shifted.

My eyes naturally close as I fold into you.

My natural emotion is selected as I hold on to you.

all sounds drown,

our heads tilt down in concert,

seredipty conducts,

a symphony erupts into minutes as though everything I want goes through yourself.

So subtle is the soul-to-soul magnetism adherence, a transference beyond appearance.

Anticipating thunder,

the next minute of our meeting begins.

 

By R. Craig David-Copyright 2017

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Written by
rcraig-david
50 / M / American
Published
Dec 16, 2016
Lines·Words
62·412
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