it is late and her voice;
her voice is lisping but
rolls in like lazy rows
of endless waves.
waves like the lazy
touch of a sleepy
lover rolling over my
restless cheeks; waiting
for some once promised
kiss; waiting for some
bouquet of blue irises
she said she'd send;
i roll over like dew on
the touch of dawn;
i roll over like a kitten
with vulnerable chin;
i lay stretched waiting
for my love, my fate
i lay waiting for her
to wake my affection
so i can touch the pale
light in her precious eyes
feb 2007
No comments:
Post a Comment