~~2~~

~~~~~~~~~~2~~~~~~~~~~~
d e l i c a t e shapes in the darkness
we dance in cooling plasma pools of light~~~~~~
soul eyes caress the living poem of form and fire~~~
burns through and through and through we~~2~~
merge and meld our breaths spellbound held in thrall
when dreams escape behind the cape of playful Night~
the Sea she foams and writhes in her purple slips
to kiss the wet~salt rush from your breasts and lips~
only a crush, somewhere newly old to become lost in all this?



Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 580 times
Written on 2016-10-24 at 22:34

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