In Those Giddy Heights Of Lust
Palpable are the butterflies
Compelling us to embrace a kiss…
In those giddy heights of lust.
They obliterate each amiss…
Like cupids sachet, arrows
We are windswept…
Hasten to traverse &
Fall—head over heels …
& not be, sidestepped.
Like—dishearten heroes.
We brush against peeling ivory &
Imagine her in her vintage clothes
In all her undressed naked form
Like a mellifluous music!
In all but her moonlit ambiance
We imagine a compendium of ideas
In a heavenly chapter bookmarked.
poem by Mark Heathcote
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
No comments until now.