hips, lips and fingertips

for her

 

warm and inviting, like the sun...

my skin is cold and dry, the ache of passing days are drawing me out and time is a constant sting. moments need be fleeting where concern bears no consequence and the little things that tear into the hours make the days a painful forever...

something is coming close, and i know whole-heartedly what it is.. it is that lump of muscle, beating at a quickened pace, deep in my center.. it is my voice calling out at a whisper.. it is her skin...

dosed and dreary i call her name again...

Author's Note

mere words weak and weary like these are nothing to wholly impart her beauty and grace