4snp
Swiftly,
A moment crystalized like amber.
Memories are etched,
Photographic.
The linen sinks. My hand sifts through folds; following the fingertips of my senses. Finally reaching your hip; closer; the backfire of my breath heating the air to breathe. Beautiful, alluvial—fine strains—brown are the spindles of gold shining my face. Mosaic. Impulse brings me closer to the olive trap—drawn am I like an insect to light at night, sinking to the euphoric warmth of solar flare—
The cosmos you are and I am floating in beautiful silence to the sound of you.
Our secret waltz, just you and I.
Carry on;
we dream, alive we are
and desolate infinity we create with just us in it.
