His lips are petal, are thirst

Only time will tell,
residue of longing, luscious, on the edge of lower lip
is truth,
is fallaciousness,
chained in curiosity or is merely an illusion
your lambent green eyes
generate
a slight intake of breath
and before I could realize, I lost track of time.
Come, strip the night of indecision,
sometimes we just let it slip away
this love of mine is as old as the hills, cutting deep
into poetry that sings,
I suppose it makes sense
considering
I see your name and say it softly out loud;
silvered, like the moon
even the smallest traces of you make me radiate,
make me glow,
you say

I leave lipstick notes without a care in the world
only time will tell.

 

 

Photo credits: Jarek Puczel Painting, Pinterest

A potpourri of words from Skylover Wordlist:  Lambent,
illusion, chained, curiosity, strip, silver. 💝

Posted for Weekly Scribblings @ Poets and Storytellers United

What more can be said, that

Poem inspired by the title of Rumi’s poetic masterpiece, “What was told, that.”

What more can be said that raises a faint blush on,
embers of wanting
smolder marmalade-like over a pair of brown eyes,
copacetic these clouds murmur
not a thought, not a kiss, nor a glance is forgotten–
your beauty akin to a cream rosebud,
to winter sunshine illuminating the trees.

What more can be said that molds the heart
with such strangeness,
the crescent itself seethes when I utter your name
and I, seeing through pretense smile
I plead pardon for having my breath perfumed—

Darkly whispering the underworld beckons,
I gaze upon the flowers pinned between rocks
sprouting deep purple,
the violet
being one to address blood consciousness.
To repudiate living darkness that exists in one’s soul
would be ideal,
I thought to myself as I rise from dreams unreal;
I bury my face in the wild storm of your being.

There is faith in the fog, I cannot see the ground
and yet
I tread further into the abyss of the unknown,
let lips decide the distance between us
love, I have witnessed many a February cold—
come,
weave foolishness into my heart;

it’s perfectly easy, every atom
belonging to me as good
belongs to you;
what more can be said that raises a faint blush on.

 

 

Photo credits: Pinterest

A Skylover Wordlist: Underworld, crescent, seethe, faint,
sunshine, foolish 💝

Posted on Weekly Scribblings @ Poets and Storytellers United

& Posted on Open Link Night @ dVerse Poets Pub

Storm Moon ~ Part One: Beyond the Boundaries

Brooding, the faint slender crescent
living with ache and no serious sins
perhaps a memory surfaces to a mirrored abyss
reaching but never truly grasping–
I press my finger against the subtle breath of the East,
feel its presence
the churning chaos of scars long lost and forgotten,
I say they evaporate
or how else
could I even walk on this part of the colonnade?
Nearby, flowered and craving for a moment of rest.
On quiet nights,
in the absence of dreams, I breathe your name
there are moments when vulnerability overwhelms—
sliver-tongued
it makes us believe unerring safety, a recherché calm
and everything comes gushing out;
while I, betrayed by evidence of my body’s reaction
seethe,
feeling no different than the crescent,
than the wordless bewilderment of the East—
how foolish.

 

 

Photo credits:  The Pre-Raphaelites, Pinterest

A Skylover Wordlist: Colonnade, seethe, crescent, faint, east,
brooding, foolish, silver. ❤

Posted for Writers’ Pantry @ Poets and Storytellers United