As waves collide in awe consuming space.
I wanted the first time. not the last time . . . with her . . . "My Love"
I wanted my Jing to magically submerge into her . . . Jang
I wanted my undying passion, to taste her . . . air
Breathe inside . . . there
Evaporating her aura; into a cloudy atmosphere
The soul of our being.
The soul of our innocence.
Tasting our inner feeling
Echoing ecstasy upon the open walls of our spiraling ceiling
Evoking emotions of complex desire's; mazes compressed in flesh against flesh
Endless kisses shared upon a breath
And scent of sexual perfume
A fragrance created and lingered; in the symbol of loves myriad art
To make our bodies sudden shudder (as we feel the impact beat of each others heart) )))inside each others sluice paroxysm bursts (((
The fervid heat that quenched our thirst.
The frantic – gentle... anticipated... pace.
The first time. Not the last time /.
The future in the present
in the pretense of our past.
The climax –
without the hearts . . . depart
Words by D'Antay Web
Read 953 times
Written on 2006-10-17 at 18:47
Tags Love
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
The First Time, Not the Last Time
I wanted the first time – to disperse of any goodbye whispersI wanted the first time. not the last time . . . with her . . . "My Love"
I wanted my Jing to magically submerge into her . . . Jang
I wanted my undying passion, to taste her . . . air
Breathe inside . . . there
Evaporating her aura; into a cloudy atmosphere
The soul of our being.
The soul of our innocence.
Tasting our inner feeling
Echoing ecstasy upon the open walls of our spiraling ceiling
Evoking emotions of complex desire's; mazes compressed in flesh against flesh
Endless kisses shared upon a breath
And scent of sexual perfume
A fragrance created and lingered; in the symbol of loves myriad art
To make our bodies sudden shudder (as we feel the impact beat of each others heart) )))inside each others sluice paroxysm bursts (((
The fervid heat that quenched our thirst.
The frantic – gentle... anticipated... pace.
The first time. Not the last time /.
The future in the present
in the pretense of our past.
The climax –
without the hearts . . . depart
Words by D'Antay Web
Read 953 times
Written on 2006-10-17 at 18:47
Tags Love
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
