Sunday, 12 December 2010

Room 5

The bubble, sizzle and pop of flesh
Under flame blackened spoon handle,
Wound licked clean: kissed numb
A commitment, a scar and a promise;
The brand from the flames
Of love's everlasting candle.

A cup of tea encased by drab magnolia walls,
Pure, naked, we sit in the eves.
We talk, sit, lie, laugh, and cry,
As Saint Francis lights the room.
Upon sheets laced around the edge,
Printed with flowers and leaves.

Flesh and bones become one,
As love and lust steal away the night.
The sister moon smiles outside,
Watching you sleep and watching you wake;
Kisses, love, and sweet embrace,
Words often said but never trite.

A womans drunken discourse discloses
Breathing a smile to kiss rosy red cheeks,
Love's etheral choirs of cherubs and angels
Sweet songs carried along the nights breeze.
Consumation, confirmation, and copulation,
Now and forever until just two antiques.

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