Careened

His hands sculpt

the perfect orgasm

from within, her voice

carries through

the sea-salt wind,

while the moon

pulls the tides,

whispering I love you

through the ocean

as it boldly rises

and falls down to knees

on whitewashed sand-

he holds her face

in the palms of his hands,

blue eyes sun flecked stare

with foreign intensity

into the wide green abyss

blinking back every year

that she waited so long

to be

right here.

Reviews

[Archie Logsdon]

That is very beautiful, Lola. I can feel the salt sea wind in my face.

[Alessander]

really like "the sea salt wind". This tone is intimate, sad, and somewhat resigned. the diction really digs into heart - whitewashed, green abyss, here.

I think I prefer your shorter pieces, for now at least

[Emily B]

so good to find new words from you here

[Ed Hart]

congratulations (and it's a down right great love poem)