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Paper and Skin

To hear this poem, .

* * * * *

A poet and his lover,
Tear their garments asunder,
Caught in the light of noon,
They give in to the instincts of the moon.

Spread naked is the canvas of his inspiration;
Across her skin he commits a verse of seduction;

Musings drip between her thighs,
He navigates and drinks in her sighs,
Writing rhythmic caresses across her skin,
The whispering sonnet can begin.

He licks an ode to her passion,
She envisions a dream of resonant unison;
She tastes the avatar of his creativity,
He enters the path to her identity.

If he could tear away his skin, he would wear her forever;
If she could devour his soul, they could exist as one another;

The sound of her name flows down his cheek;
The thrusts of his punctuation leave her weak;
Her skin shines with the lines of his intimacy;
His back bears the marks of her ecstasy.
Eyes closed, she hears a breathless culmination.
Eyes closed, he recites their creation.

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