Thursday, 3 December 2015

The perfume of moon

The ache is a susurration
pounding my chest with oxygen-fire
Let us put down these arrogant masks

And bid midnight to come, wine-
spilled with our tempest secrets,
Our eyes starved with possibilities

Not even our families at war, can define
Our words find each other
like threads to needle's eye, spooning like velvet storm

Each touch is mercury's fever
Marking time like panther chasing a wild harmony
Let's begin our own dancing, slow

sipping the perfume of night-blooms
Gripping us with passion's forbidden fruit
Thick with cups of spice

The full moon moans 
at the back of my throat-
I say your name
                                     & over

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Synesthesia hosted by Victoria C. Slotto - Thanks for the visit ~