Mind rustling in the tid bits
even opening up for a knew look
Is it a calling to one's soul
or pages of a secret book.
Felt the fluttering waves
its the stimuli you've sent
In the middle of midnight sun
you called me to get bent.
Darkness hovered the night
silence from all other source
My whispered words calling
as cracks arise in my voice.
Your waves caressing me
those whispers reaching a peak
I tossed and turned in utter need
my body could not be meek.
I opened my eyes to a vision
you sitting at the edge of the bed.
That smile bringing in the sun
and all that light began to spread.
The tidbits became a united scene
your body reached out to all of me
Before I could see it coming
I floated off in ecstasy.
Del Cano 2008 February
2 comments:
It really isn't the words themselves
It must be the one who reads them
For when I read each page of you
Different impressions are my gift
I feel the way you call to me
Each day I think of you
and when I write some words of mine
They're meant to give a clue
In the midst of my celebration
I closed again my heart
for it didn't seem to me
that what I searched, you were
It isn't often that I reach out
Tired of whispers all my life
I want to scream and shout
My want, my need, it cuts me as a knife
I don't see you in my dreams
You've become more than fantasy
For how could I return that smile
When only in a dream...
I want love to surround me
And hunger for sweet union
Were you here to touch me now
I'd know a wonderful communion...
May you always float off to ecstasy...beautiful words...
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