Dreaming of MorningsA Poem by Beautiful IntentionsAm a sucker for a Sunday...It was your slow, faint fingertips in the morning Caressing along a bare outer thigh That had woken me to the softest, sweetest pillow Of your tickling platinum locks Giggling together when I had squirmed Sleepy features nuzzling all the deeper into your hair Slightly squeezing my leg tighter at your waist While you gently teased that sensitive nook At the back of a knee which rests upon your hip Throughout each and every night As if you know, have always known All the right places to touch to make me smile
It had felt like one in a million sunrises Like I have awoke tangled about you countless times As natural as breathing the tender ways we snuggle Fingertips slipping through fingertips to take my hand in yours Wrapping my arm around you as I pulled you so close A cheek tucked at the warm slope of your neck Not a word whispered as we took that moment Just took the moment… To listen to the calm, steady cadence of our mingling hearts Pressed so near to the other’s in a disheveled bed To absorb, savor, perhaps even dare to memorize The sensation of curves so seamlessly fitted together
And I know that you had heard it Those seconds when I had swallowed the emotions I know that you had felt it When my chest had suddenly constricted with the unshed tears Because it was a moment that you and I had shared When you had slowly turned within my embrace to face me As if you have done the same a thousand times before Our trembling fingers stretching for the satin feel of the other’s hair Fleeting, telling smiles gracing our lips as palms had rested And thumbs lovingly stroked along velvet cheeks Gazing into the other’s eyes… Never having to speak a word, do we? We never have to say anything…
The memories are always there Behind our every touch, with every glance, in our every kiss As if star-crossed lovers forever haunted by their past Reflections living like shadows at the recesses of our minds So much that cherishing touches always linger just a little longer As if fingertips have never once forgotten the time spent apart So much that something glitters, sparks every time that eyes meet Those many things that mouths need not speak Always beginning with, “I love you. Where have you been all my life?” And always ends with a tilt, a lean towards a kiss That tastes of time upon softly exploring lips © 2016 Beautiful IntentionsFeatured Review
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StatsAuthorBeautiful IntentionsAkron, OHAboutAm an authentic lover of all genres. There is no form of expression that I do not adore as I recognize and appreciate all forms of art. Returning to this site, as a fellow word enthusiast, I intend to.. more..Writing
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