Poetry: Scented Warmth

Posted on 18. Aug, 2009 by Cheryl Frances in Poetry

I breathe in your secrets,
Soft as angel wings, Cold like infant death,
And my heart aches.
A little too soon and…
You slip into my leather notebook,
Smooth as wine from promised dusk.

Brush…Your skin against mine,
Tender like sacred fingers.
Hold…Your eyes inline with mine,
Adorned with ribbons,
Each one telling a lie.

I move onto you.
You shed yourself of musky cotton,
But you’re still wrapped in a linen of silent disillusion,
So close I can drink it.
You breathe in my naked thought,
Because anyone else would choke,
As I lie with you,
Entangled in scented warmth…

The longer you wait the better it is?
Secretly wishing to have it all the time.
To over indulge in the sweetest sin.
To close your eyes and it’s all you see.

To steal it, over and over until you’ve had enough, yet never be truly satisfied!
To take what isn’t yours, yet revel in the consequences.
To give it up, and remember how good it was.
To see yourself in someone else’s eyes to touch souls, yet forget names.

To scream, in the heat of passion, yet cry in the icy after thought, yet to be melted away, with the remembrance.
To never forget your first time, yet want to take it back.
To go forever with out a touch, yet realise it’s been a day.
To taste the sweetest thing, yet never to be replete.

To want till you have it all, to lust your life away…
And enjoy every minute.

Tags: ILL-Literacy