In this instance
I cannot, in this instance love you more,for all the sureness and sheerness of cliffs,
I lie amongst the sea lavender and shingle,
my skin aflame, I tingle with the anticipation.
Where sky meets sea and white horses
share the spume that floats like suds upon the air.
In this instance, I am more breathless, I exhale,
the scent of shores and so much more
I am the shell you listened to on windswept walks
where tide left drifts in the sandy markers,
kissing as the wind whipped, leaving crystals
glistening from the amethyst rocks, they dried
and later as night fell we wiped them from our eyes.
I love you more, than all the scores of earthly lives,
as dense as crushed velvet we walked on clover,
you held my hair, feeling the tug of a thousand ships,
warriors sipping all the superstition of a victors war.
In this moment, sweet anguished torment, we rent
and electricity crackles between us, I am your static shock,
as in this instance I am locked between oceans and you.
Poetry by Elle
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Written on 2012-12-26 at 13:27
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