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Rising From The First Galaxy

by Tom Goss

Rising From The First Galaxy, This Ubiquitous Love Tsunami Crashes Into The Cosmic Architecture With The Transcendent Fierceness Of Youthful Yearning

I adore delightful wind scattered kisses
that you left for me in a paper bag
crinkled to the brim with boisterous galactic dreams

stars spin as two pairs of eyes leap together
into the scintillating stardust horizon
that echoes with love's eternal enchantment

cradled hearts pull back curtains that vibrate across oceans of eons,
full spectrum blossoming of superstrings ripe with quantum entanglement,
driftwood shaped into a lover's captured face,
an utterly devout gaze carved by your gentle, skillful hands

laying down sleepwise, we entrust fate to join us again and again
in the sounds of tearful reunion, of orgasmic delight,
technology rusted until the jaws of nature
crush it into something verdant and renewed

imagination spark,
arc of hungry starlight pressing into voracious lips,
you, scalded into my heartcore,
imprinted like flowers saved in a closed book of poetry,
set upon a precious mantle,
years of soot from the fireplace below enriching
what it means to traipse upon the blade of sentience
in an unchoreographed dance of worship

the movement of these hands in front of this face,
an orchestration of so many elements and moments,
painted femininity in silk robes,
shadows chanting choruses of epic tales of love lost
and eventually rediscovered in the unlikeliest of places

each breath is wingflutter,
swooning for sunshine that blazes warmth onto this face like the planet's swan song,
high atmospheric diving against the crisp cerulean blue

I take your arm in mine,
placing hands in the fountain of truth,
a cosmos spun majestically,
like the curves of your face;
a living sculpture, apex of all summer sunsets

and I know only that my life began
the first time I reached out for you in the darkness,
my hobbled form choked with dirt light years long,
that you gather into bundles that you tell me will one day become stars

lady of the verse,
speechless delving into words,
adorn me with the dynamic heartflow of tasted mountaintop clouds,
I am the midnight garland caressing your supple skin,
nearing sleep, yet wandering far away from the fruiting orchard of your eyes,
exploring the sundry universes of your mind and body,
passion's forgotten time traveler

as your silhouetted frame repositions itself in the restfulness of darkness,
I am the one draped in the tapestry of awareness,
hand upon your meaningful hip,
a kiss upon your cheek that shall linger like a neutron star,
visiting you in hungry fever dream rivulets
that trickle steadily into the ever shifting horizon
of your cherished and rampaging mindscape


Author's Note: poetry ate my soul

Posted on 01/07/2021
Copyright © 2021 Tom Goss

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Rebecca Andre on 02/02/21 at 07:30 PM

"years of soot from the fireplace below enriching what it means to traipse upon the blade of sentience" what a glorious representation of the dark seasoning of time

Posted by Joan Serratelli on 02/02/21 at 09:50 PM

Poetry ate my soul too. Great read

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