Nary Love.

Your hair flutters in the wind,

it goes right, it goes left.

The water trickles down your navel,

it goes everywhere and nowhere.

Such is your overawing beauty,

such is your complete tranquility.

I desire nothing more than to bask in your touch,

Nothing more than to feel your wet kisses upon my dry soul.

My desire for you emanates from wells of passion,

rooted deep in the black soils of hope.

Love me and leave me not in anguish, 

hold me close lest I shatter into oblivion.

Permanently obscured from the pages of love, 

i grapple relentlessly in the dark.

It is said with penance comes hope, 

but what is hope without love.

What is love without a beloved,

what is a beloved to a broken heart.

Author's Note

Any feedback would be greatly appreciated, please, don't hold back.

Reviews

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"rooted deep in the black soils of hope"

~ an unforgettable image... very skillfully and sensitively etched...