Secret Time Poem by Sharron Stephenson

The road that leads to the path,
Of a garden door. A handle,
That opens the heart of dreams,
And wishes.
The breathe of recovery, A pulse,
Of movement and care.

A moment of sex and orgasms,
The bodies of two in the heat,
Of a passionate affair, then
The pleasure of a secret. The,
Huddle that binds the worlds,
Of highs and lows.

A second pause a third kiss,
A lie the killing line,
The partner, The time of ink and,
Lights