We do not know the future and can only live in the present but I will remember fondly the past I share with you.
The thought
of your touch
is lost to me.
My refuge lies
in liquid dreams
grazing your furrowed brow
gently with my lips.
In that moment between
bitter truth and soft slumber
your face drifts before me
enfolded by desire’s grasp
I ache for you-
yearning for one final tender kiss.
Wow. Just wow. The pain is...so strong. And I love the way it's worded; you can feel the longing, that wishing and aching for something that is no longer in reach, forever out of grasp. It's amazing, how you word this. The last line sums it up, ends it with a surge of pain. "Yearning for one final tender kiss" but then wouldn't you just want more?
There's something to think about; stunning poem, love it.
Beautiful poem.
I appreciate your review. However, I spend too much time editing my stories to care too much about my poetry. I rarely bother with it anymore. It's hard to be orginal with poetry, too many dish out the same pouring of heart or ache of soul sputterings to keep track of what's been covered. I find that stories are an area where one can still be truly original.
Not knocking poets of course.
Great poem.