I
cannot remember
how friendly conversations
evolved into loving embraces.
It must have been the oriental
spice of your perfume,
exotic meshed with ******,
or the lullaby rhythm of your voice,
soft soaring syllables,
that lured me to you.
Or,perhaps it was our time,
past lovers long passed.
Nightly, I lay cradled
against your S-shaped curves,
******* touching *******,
intertwined into
oneness.
© 1994, Iona Nerissa
All poetry under the names Lori Carlson or Iona Nerissa are the sole property of Lori Carlson.
Please seek permission before using any of my writings.
~Lori Carlson~