Monday, July 07, 2008

Waver

Your eyes on my skin
draw me in
to a dream colored blue,
cool and calm
muted soft hues,
where hazy and lazy
we cherish the day,
sip cabaret,
tangled together,
lost in the sky,
thigh upon thigh,
scented and soaked
in liquid hot lust
I'll bottle to savor
in moments like these
when the dream
starts to waver.

1 comment:

Trée said...

I've been reading poetry all frailing day long, but nothing, and I mean nothing has come close to being this good. If this poem were a small boat, you have posited it upon a limpid lake, gently rocking two lovers back and forth in the summer sun, cheeks white soon to be red.