Thursday, November 03, 2011

Hands 3/30


It starts with a touch. One that excites and aggravates.
Smooth like lines on parchment. Searching for secrets
tucked between folds. My name in your mouth a breath held
spoken into the locks that circle my head. A crown.

I am a queen here. Locked in your embrace. Hold me to the light,
watch me shine and sparkle. Diamonds. Moans like music
we dance.

Slow at first. The momentum increases your eyes are glass.
We slide and shimmer. My mouth turns dirty. The words all
guttural and stain. I don't believe my own ears.

You ask me what I want. Pandora's box opens. Just enough to
let simple sins flow out in tangles of sheets and palms. We become
elastic. Stretching more than intentions. We bend like willows,
roll like waves. Crash and break.

Holding like notes. We are an opera. We are a memory in the making.
Shaking leaves we fall forever.

It started with a touch.