"diastoles" poems
there's a sense of peace
that wends its way through
the folds of my diastoles
elicited by the dreamy murmurs
of your voice when it sings my name
and I cling to that lullaby like
marsupial infant
till our souls stand melded
in adoration's fire…
Oct 11, 2014
Oct 11, 2014 at 9:14 PM UTC