Lonnie Hicks (www.lonniehicks.com / Chicago Ill)

Oh, to be soul-kissed
the deep kiss;
mouth brushing past
parted lips.

I can feel my body
unraveling
anticipation screaming
on Pouty Canvass Crimson.

I can feel the gathering,
we two crouching
uplifting;
Raptures shooting.

Touch we
the first touch
electric quiverings;
inward breath surging,
dizzying availings,
opened lungs,
toes curling.

I long for the Soul-Kiss.
I'm born to give
and receive it;
my tongue
it's starting place.

Hands upon the
Heart's Mast
I and It go Sailing;
Deep Seas and Velvet Harbors,
Journeys through the Musics
where Soul and Heart meet;
flutteringly
settling there
on Kissed Shores
where everything I am
is magnetized
and tingling.

I'm twirled inside out
in gauzy
dreamless dream
where breaths exchanged
plunge lung-deep
surging forth,
back, and between.

The Kiss of the Soul
speeds to my Heart standing
handkerchief waving
on Heaving Shore.

Dizzy;
Weakened Knees,
unable to stand
but, I do
it Againly.