All I crave

 

Au coin de feu, Detail. by Auguste Toulmouche (1878)

image credits- Pinterest

 

It’s like crawling slowly and steadily on my skin, my cold skill refuses that baked slice

of lemon to provide composure, oh, the moon, show me your silver beam in this sunny gold pyramid.

It’s something like a blatant truth now suffocating my inside organs.

Clenching my unsaid words, devouring my amorphous fidelity

And, all my fingers crave is to play the music of your heart.

                                                                   ©My Valiant Soul


 

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Sacred Earth

 Like a distinctive shine, my heart palpitates for your convex smile,
the dewy lips romancing with a shooting star,
the prodigious forest inside my body receives a gust of fragrance,
your beatific touch that glitters my waistline, oh, my man!
Between lips and parched lips, resides a mystical cacophony
yarning a crown of butterflies to decorate my atlas of body
to receive the markings that spread through my milky breast
where the darkness vanishes in the monotony of time,
I smell my bed sheet, the spots you rocked me,
clinging on the jasmine night,
that gave an ephemeral shake, a tremor to our naked souls.
A thunder I produced, inside my poppy finger-nails
where I captured your aroma,
as a pearl of delight: my necklace
I want your immortal touch inside the folds of my skin,
sucking my tongue
residing in the interiors of my temple shaped body,
I have known moist cities and pale humans
putting a slumber to my desire,
And snickering to my crooked jawline
where the goddess even hides in cold evenings.
I have seen sanity, insanity.
I have been tattooed with thorns of roses
wrapped around my neck, suffocating, killing, devastating.
And here I survive in your crisp prism blurry image
turning around the previous thorns as a cultivated seed.