Your Blossom To My Lips
Your whisper is an enchanting magic,
The remembrance of honeysuckle gone,
Of a daisy missed in life’s running tragic,
A yearning hope to hang our dreams upon.
My desire tastes the sweetness of your skin,
The perfumed madness enrapturing me,
A momentary forever that I get lost in,
The siren call of our everyday ecstasy.
But for now I sit, admiring this bouquet,
Wondering at our distant hearts beating,
How only a fool would let you get away,
Words escaping need in our souls’ meeting.
So I shall cling to our deep faith now,
And dance as the lingering regret slips,
Praying you come to me in our somehow,
Where I shall put your blossom to my lips.
~ Bartoluciano
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Find your passion. Follow it to your conclusion. Breathe. Laugh. Be.
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