I cannot save your words
till later
I jump
I fling myself
into the bowl
bursting their rich ripe juice
against the surface of my spirit
drinking them in
to fuel the furnace
of this fine desire
for closeness
for the sweet wrap
of comprehension
that weaves between us
like fine silk
fine wine
like blood
and breath and spirit
an ache and throb
of passion
a catch of breath
slight swelling of the lips
that sigh your name
with longing
and with knowledge
recognition
thudding slow across
the nerves in
untouched skin
each pulse
a message
soul to soul.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Gorgeous, passionate write. Just lovely. HG: -) xx