They sat together, carefully, slowly caressing
this moment, temporary infinite, experienced blessing.
The grass was long and on moisty soil, they sat
together, staring in the distance, at eachother
and at the water, bouncing of the moons reflection
of a light no stronger than their love.
A beam, a ray from way and far above, reflected twice, and
once more in eachothers eyes. A blink too much,
an imperfection, adored some more, signs of affection.

His hands sliding across the surface, followed
by her grasping touch, afraid to be alone,
extased by being with one another. Until
the shattering of every single bone, they will
remember, briefly, with such passion. Every
single ember burns again.

Leaning on his shoulder, enjoying his smell.
Just simply looking, regarding facts, you can tell
everyone acts or wishes to, achieve this state.
Silently, breathing in your shapers air, releasing all,
the offers just to dare and make this happen.

Saying something, even your name, would be
too much, quietly masquering the blush, softly
giving in and opening up to your most desired sin.

They think the same, their love is parallelled.
They are both ahead, both too slow, both have
said and both do know. They both need to be held.

I lost my sense along with your attention,
lost my goal and did I mention, that you'll
regret the signs you did not send, regret
the decision, turning down a chance to blend
your strings with mine, attached, but ofcourse,
you did decline. I could have done more, you
should have done more. My feet are still sore
from walking, running, pacing, strolling, wandering, straying, browsing, playing, sprinting, squinting, flinching, failing, giving
up.

Collarbones are closest to my pain, fingers recreating
what is never to regain. Slowly turning, drifting, insane.
Realising that it's over, telling myself it's not, lying.
Stuttering b-be-because I, I'm crying, reading poems
to cry some more. Writing to keep away the bore.

Not a step was taken, though time'd have to be moved
to awaken and restart, recurring simple matters because
they meant the most. Love is not brought on silver platters,
it is deserved, in both ways, not in one.

She's gone for now, but she'll return, come back
sweetly just before the storm gets loose.
Before another storm sweeps me from your grip
connecting hip to lip and tongue to song and sing
and dance for this new chance.

If it's your glance or that of someone else, whose
turn it is to learn from how he sells, tells how
insecure I am and 'll always be. Finally,
set me free.