Building A City Of Words Instead of Saying I Love You
by Tom Goss
In the quiet spaces of my mind
there is softly sleeping figure
with the relaxed repose of an angel.
I kiss her cheek
and lightly stroke her autumn hair
with a hope that she might slightly stir,
becoming minutely aware of my presence,
if only for an instant.
you are there in my dreams
laughing with me under the wild canopy
of my fluctuating soul;
in between moments
in between exhalations
I am caressed and buttressed
by the elegant strength
of your tender spirit.
You are freedom
after centuries of imprisonment.
You are a heavy rain
after a cruel drought.
You bring the stars
closer to my eyes.
You pull colorful spiral galaxies
toward us with your heart-bending gravity.
We explode like kaleidoscopic fireworks,
splattering a longstanding dream across the churning night sky.
Refilling our palette of sensuality with shattered rainbows,
we bend down to pick up the myriad jagged pieces,
our heartbeats bouncing again and again
to the hypnotic rhythm of evening descending,
our hands touching,
our eyes devouring,
our minds uniting,
and our bodies shaking
as fiery desires are sporadically quenched and rekindled,
slowly dying down to embers of nirvana
whose warm afterglow is eventually extinguished by the cool,
refreshing stream of our parallel thoughts
drifting weightlessly towards the sandy shores of eternity.
Posted on 08/07/2016
Copyright © 2021 Tom Goss