I almost always take the lead; owing to fire in blood
and stardust in bones,
words falling from mouth,
detecting hints of devilry in lilac tones and coy exchange,
for morning is persistent that lovers part—
blades of grass and glistening dew,
there is something to be said
about evaporation that takes place between two people
in a single room.
What is it that men and women require?
Besides smoke that lingers long after contact is broken,
a delightful disorder,
I am aware of prayer of body calling me to rise,
a perfect design,
that thrills me far beyond poetry can explain,
the softer side of sun,
as feeling makes its way into the constricts of ribcage,
I implore you; do not beguile me more than I already am.
The careless clouds, pale stones and warm wind
bear witness, as slowly
the hours pass into nothingness
and memory takes us for a trip down its lane,
like having the knowledge that he has no choice
but to belong, rosier lips
admiring and instructing in equal measure,
there is a sweetness to the sting that pleasure carries
in its wake,
I find that I am never the answer but question
that he ends up asking himself—
dark globes of chandelier mirroring everything
that is evident;
is this something you can hope to live without?
Just then, the window at the end of the hallway throws
Photo credits: Dark room with opened window, pexels
An early unveiling of the April Poem-a-Day Challenge, Day 8 🥠
Laura is our lovely hostess at dVerse where she invites us to write an Aubade.
Come join us! ❤️
Posted for MTB: Morning has broken @dVerse Poets Pub