I hear you talking in another room.
I know immediately that it is you.
I am an instrument tuned
to the rough melody of your voice;
the low masculine register, the gruff, rhythmic intonation.
Just hearing the sound of you speaking
makes my limbs sing
with receptivity,
my body tremble with excitement.
I am in wonder
at the lyrical contrasts:
man and woman,
hardness and softness,
action and passivity,
self and other;
the delicious tension
of our meeting.
Come here, my love.
Play me your spoken words
like a lullaby
and whisper me to bed,
make your touch deep and resonant,
like the fingering of complex chords upon my skin.
Play me in your skillful hands
until I release an ecstatic orchestra of sounds,
breathy music from the realm of pleasure,
loud and full,
until I crescendo into the waiting silence of sleep,
ravished by our duet.
The kind of poem that takes the breath. Excellent.
Thanks so much for stopping by my blog; I’m glad you enjoyed what you found
The ethereal enchantress exquisitely excites one’s minds eye.
A beautiful verse of joy
Namaste
Namaste Derek, blessings 🙂
Oh, how inventive and light-hearted again. This post made me instantly warm and happy 😉
So pleased I could make you happy 🙂