I can't tell an hour,
since I emptied the night
from red the other day -
but still,
I find myself
tossing words into the sky
as if they were constellations.
(Yes, somewhere stuck in time,
there is an answer
as easy as embracing.)
Till then:
My eyes -
staggering stalactites of dreams
to reflect the glow
I hope to catch in yours;
My mouth -
a hesitant hive of dragonflies
to hum you a musical
of kisses and pillow talk;
My fingers -
factitious feathers
cherishing the pureness
of your skin;
My heart -
looking forward
to your 6 am again.
(Oh yes, sometimes
it definitely is morning.)
Adding your comment:
love it all great flow and was sweet
