Saturday, December 10, 2016

Taste of her lips

I have lingered in the memories
Of the taste
Of her lips
I have memorized the pathways
Of the lines
Of her hips
Oh they sway
And sway
And she dances
In my memories of her
Her motions make me burn
Her voice stirs the beast
Even in stone cold coma
Asleep, or in dream
The presence of her
Becomes a portent
Or omen
I quicken
I come awake
And the rest of the world
Takes notice
In awe
She is beautiful
She is perfect
When I see her
I shake
She dances
In my memories
And she dances
There in my dreams