In Poetry Poem by Shelly Price

in poetry

we have the ability
to be the lovers
we never were
or never had the chance
to be -

we snap our fingers
with a bit of ink,
stars explode
and the moon appears
pale pink

song birds sing
when our lips meet
blood turns to fire.
We become
waterfalls and waves,
the wind
that bends trees
and moves mountains -

our bodies,
in the throes of poetry,
transform into lyrics
written by the gods

we thirst passionately
pound our desire
ferociously
into golden skin
we are beautiful
beyond anyone’s imagination

in poetry...