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Jul 2018
“My love is of a birth as rare as we were born,
And as of yet has not reached its greatest height,
I have begun this love due to the desperation afore,
Desperate origin has brought me to sacredness,

But our so affaire-de-coeur was truly infinite,
Fresh air of the flowered pedals spilt redolence      
Where our outspread souls affix jointly,
There awaits our indomitable fate meets resolute,

As we hugged as horded lovers betwixt,  
Feared an eye of enviousness tyranny upon,
Two splendid lovers notably closing tightly,
As our bodies meet my sudation trickles like mist,

Her loving eyes caressing lusts fondled gaze,
Exposed pent into lovers sphere of embracement,
Moving into every cusp greeting where we never met,
Therefore the love which executed had us bound,

Now our cosmos travail with a new paroxysm,
Fissure of our affaire-de-coeur”
  
   By A. Guzaldo 07/10/2018 ©
By A. Guzaldo 07/10/2018 ©    Poem #101
Andrew Guzaldo c
Written by
Andrew Guzaldo c  59/M/Las Vegas
(59/M/Las Vegas)   
  287
     ---, Fawn, Traveler and Khoisan
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