Park
I felt you once,
whispering in my ear,
that day at the park,
while I kissed your eyelids.
Blushing,
you glimpsed my breath,
wavering through each tender film.
Unsure of thier worth,
my lips snapped a portrait,
to be swallowed at a later date,
I quietly sigh and eyed.
Glancing down,
our hands intertwined, lovers snakes,
writhed to find the others niche,
clamboring for heat.
Dying to ebb closer,
every puddle of your denim dress
rippled towards me,
wetting my skin, a cloth embrace.
Breaking our heartbeats silence,
lay a whole note,
adeptly scrawled down my throat,
wishing you could read it,
a scar, and I, scared to sing it.
Deftly fingering each solitary strand of midnight,
my prints billow into the rise of your falling locks,
like daylight braille.
This serpentine tongue,
blindly gestured down a nubile neck,
while tastebuds count the days,
searching for love's mounding nests.
Folding over the crest of this womans worth,
parade my teeth,
scrambling towards her pair of pink silver dollars,
adorning a treasured chest.
Your legs sat, quivering,
each lithe trunk locked, teetering,
at the foot of the bench,
waiting to be opened.
A key, piece of evidence,
evident in heavens breath,
sent me your verdict, screaming,
tears chaining each cheek.
I regret not having listened to your gaze, cooing,
cat calling these sorry loins,
begging to strip me of heartache and clothing.
With mouth ajar, words, such tumbling puppies, fell out,
previously held together with a thread of doubt,
and unraveled anew in passion's lap, sleeping.
Twin gumdrops, prayed to the clouds, free,
stiffened by gasping exhalation,
nipples sacrificed, drowning in my wanton mouth.
Unable to speak, I read your lips,
muted by your ever mesmerizing moan,
a battle cry of soldiered flesh,
tmpered with the mettle of young love.
Pressing, pawing, almost clawing at my head,
hands, sweet gemini, guide me lower,
adventuring down your lavender scented landing strip.
A plain tongue,
taxied across your tan no mans land,
with gentle brush sweeping my face,
kissing me with fond welcome.
Bidding adéu to your cumulus, I forget my baggage,
and fall head first into your folds, traipsing,
sliding along each svelte lip, lapping
every iota of ambrosia, a thirsty man.
Burying my face,
I cared not of another breath,
lest it consist of your sex,
inhaling liquid sustenance,
with honeyed lungs, dead and alive.
Loving you inward and outward,
looking forward and back,
tasting each dying sorrow, melting,
wilting, into this temperate flower.
Hips rocking, bucking, flailing,
almost to the point of succumbing,
a seeming voodoo priestess,
you smother me whole.
Reaching out, groping, awash
between the banks of woman,
I grasp handfuls of
earthen breast, tugging myself
onto the shore of love's chest.
Sated, a saviour savored,
as the lioness lounging
or marionette unstrung,
She collapses.
Breathless, dehydrated,
spent, lust's refugee,
He cowers over her body,
a passionate falcon,
guarding his take.
Watching such spectacle from afar,
the average loner can't equate, yet
walking closer, might mistake,
a hulking mass for love mishaped.
Two bodies, tangled,
a mess of limbs,
dangling,
resting gently upon a bench,
tired, dead.
Nouveau conspirators
who died for the moment,
and lived to please,
met once in the park.
