Yesterday, I wrote a letter
in my mind.
The script was Rubenesque,
Each curling letter
Sensuous, soft, beckoning.
The pace began softly..
Rolling off the tongue
like Honey
or Chocolate
or rich smooth Cream.
Then it began to Thunder,
every word Pounding
down and around,
Deeper, and Faster, twisting
with those Dangerous Curves.
It was a flood gate
of Passion, and joy
Misery and hope.
It was over all too soon.
I had no words to end it,
no blithe signature
or Small Endearment..
So I've tucked it away -
those last glorious,
tortured, euphoric lines
hanging, and waiting
For The Perfect End.