My Words

Your arms are made of this dark ink,
flowing recklessly
on this crisp white paper.
My daring words
gave them flesh and blood,
built these biceps
whose strength I seek now,
covered them in your torrid skin,
so smooth to my touch,
so desired.
Here you are, my lover...
Your pulse beats inside me,
maddening drum
in the jungle of my soul.
Your lips speak from the involutes and evolutes
of my nimble scrawl,
words, how sweet, how outrageous.
Your smile resonates deep,
in the maelstroms of my blood.
I revel in it, my eyes half-closed,
holding onto my instruments of writing,
still hoping
for their illusory protection
against this sweet vertigo.
All is lost when your breath comes upon me,
my pen falters,
my heart misses a beat,
but still,
I write,
I write.
Your mouth of hasty letters would not relent.
How fiercely we drink each other,
how tenderly you tear me apart.
No matter, my love,
Bring it on,
I only cling to you tighter,
I dive in your eyes,
as you resolutely surround me,
as we both surrender
to this whirl,
to this rush,
to this bliss,
to the infinite power
of the mind.


From the dream of a late summer afternoon,
only this pen,
this notebook,
this emptiness,
only my words
remain.

Copyright © Vesper L. All rights reserved.