When I: with small words: bent to whisper Some of her hairs (bronze and electric) Touched my cheek. Adrenalin sang: synapses burst into flower All awareness flared Just as she turned her eyes to me
Seen from above: they were a deep green well Where secrets swam, The green core at the heart of sunset’s backlit breaking wave Sunlight through summer’s stain glass forest leaves Greenstone on the beds of mountain streams Wide pale emeralds set in the strong and lovely bones of face Whirlpools in which to willingly spin Mythic green flash of sun drowning in horizon’s sea
Then, leaning, Still closer to her hair (because I loved the voltage there) I gave my words But closeness was a shock that rocked: then paralysed A near eternal minute: unfolding time was frozen there. There was a thing like scent: no musks, no florals nor turpines But it held me tranced Cocooned by it I swayed upon my feet Intoxicant beneath the sun Enveloped in a perfect moment
Then: stunned: I had to walk away In to the everyday
"passion is akin to intoxication and madness, out of both come creativity