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Kyla Plummer Dec 2018
I have memories,
Faint ones-
Nevertheless memories.
Hopelessly strapped upon the back
Of a tired machine.

They beg, they beg, they beg
Don't let us go,
For we are all you have left.
Can we not be your redemption,
My love?
We still kiss your temples in hopes.
Hopes that you hold tight.

For if we slip,
It just might be the last-
You see of us.
Does it still not give you hope, my love?
Endless garden play,
Protectors watch you so annoyingly sweet.
Does it not tug your strings,
That you want to throw the towel-
Does guilt not sit on you?

Tell me, my love, how does the ol'
Beater feel?
Does it stop and go on again? Or-
Perhaps does it die a little each day?
Tell me, are we prying too much-
That we may drive you to the cliff-
Of insanity!
How does it feel, my love?
Is it like a garbage bag trapping your head-
From your shoulders?

Now I feel guilty, for the
Amount of pressure I put on you today. Now,
Do we continue another session down memory lane?
Tomorrow, I suppose,
My love?
She does her best not to be bad'
wishes she could remember why
until he finds her in the mirror
that speaks to her mind...

Her body is aching
for the love in the mirror
two in one, lovers past by
two of a kind......

Just one kiss
and his famous embrace
that gets her started
this wondrous night...

The night has come that she has waited
to prepare for her lover in the mirror...

The music would be soft and low
never ending sound in the shore
as his hands finds her body
as moans comes from passion...

When he held her and their lips met
a breathless longing for the other
to night would be such a delight
with all those fleshly, raw sensations...

How they would kiss the earth
Loving traces of their mark
Glowing all through the night
Waiting for the sunlight’s spark

The mirror showed so much
hearts crying for the other
she stood in the breeze
of the mirror for him to see...

She could not back down now
she waited so long for this
the mirror and her lover
her flesh would settle for his kiss...

Ah yes, the kisses were so frantic
that put their burning thoughts to a whirl
the passion from his hands
put her willingly in deep sensations....

A potion of her lovers ******
demanding her attention
she should share it all the way
through the course, he must have it first...

They are lovers in mirror
he taunted and teased her passion
as she dreamed and moaned
for the love that was in the mirror...

one of my sensual poems.. ...

— The End —