by Maria Massarella
when dreams be
late their arrival
i let them be-
my mouth curves
to the lyrics
my hips be -
guile their s way
to the fire of yours
in a whisperbreath
graze the infinite
and in the tempo
of a tango
I am t here
Author's Note: well what actually swayed while I was composing the above (online-only minutes ago)was my chair and desk to the rhythm a of an earthquake that interrupted my inspiration there where i wrote "to the fire of yours"...
Posted on 01/25/2013
Copyright © 2023 Maria Massarella
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Clara Mae Gregory on 01/25/13 at 02:17 PM|
Earthquake? This is quite good,given the circumstances....on its way to excellence.
|Posted by Clara Mae Gregory on 01/25/13 at 02:20 PM|
I hope your ok!
|Posted by George Hoerner on 01/25/13 at 03:24 PM|
Lovely little piece and you sure it wasn't your thoughts which made the earth quake.
|Posted by Kate Demeree on 06/11/14 at 01:32 AM|
Ummm.... to me it is like a dance... with words and very seductive....... I rather enjoyed it!