“Want
a loquat, a strawberry, even a cherry?” We place ‘em
on
pound cake, and grab a fork. It’s pudding this way, to gaze
a
moon, for want of love. We pour it cold, a glass of white
wine,
speaking softly. I feel it shyly, nibbling grapes, in need
of
love.
“May
I stay?”
I’m
nervous a light, to hear for “No”, speeding through grays.
We
laugh the want, for beating hearts, and chi to rise.
Love
is precious, a motion torn, and speech is monumental.
We
filter lightly, to trouble harshly, to kiss for twice. I’m
salient
skies, and dearly blank, to script for prose. She rubs a
wrist,
to savor love, to tickle passion. I move and touch, but
still
to wait, a racing angst.
It’s
more a dream, an inward cave, to hear for whispers. We
crave
a storm, a naked storm, to terrorize souls; for love is light,
a
stippled rain, a mental melee. I tore a muscle, to hold forever,
as
rapid as chaos. We laugh—to crash, evinced with love.
Dear
Beloved,
I’m
ever gone, a stream of wails, valiant for love. The nights
are
crooked, subtle thieves, yearning for yonder. I’m singed
and
moving, to pierce a trait. It’s more exotic, for purple
eyes,
grieving a last kiss. My antidote, and sore amazed, to
ponder
awestruck. I flinch, to reckon love, torn astray.
Indeed,
to stammer, to gauge a try. I’m sheer with guilt, afraid
to
lie, for so majestic. My comely art, till a soul, and paint a
fortress.
We dance so gently, to pass for dalliance, and ever
enlove.
I must appeal, an oracle’s wand, to invoke love. Feel
and
try, a deep abyss, to crave a fountain. She loves for love,
to
rapture a soul, to count my thoughts. We move, and
transgress,
to near perdition. Let us love, ethereal love, and
seduce
a sky. I must discern, a conclave soul, screaming for
love.
My empyreal heart, till a mind, and scribe a tablet; for
love
is strong, to face the fire, and flickering a kiss.
