My limbs entangled with yours.
One palm on your cheek,
and the other on your bleeding heart.
The epitome of internal bliss,
is what I find enveloped in your arms.
Our propinquity so close,
that even air seeks permission to pass.
Benevolent touches, staggering loving.
I'll trace the veins on your skin,
with my brush dipped in paint.
Bringing your imperfections to the fore,
as I exalt their appearance.
Painting to connect with the devoted and divine.
My mind dawdles off to the moments we shared,
and I seem to be forgotten,
uncovering myself in your being.
In your presence,
I'll discover my reason.
In the deviant comfort of your hands
around my neck,
I'll find myself.
Your words are like sweet honey to my ears.
Dripping off the edges,
and onto the wounds that my heart bears.
Mend me, conceal me.
Fathoming every calamitous repercussion,
my heart has found yours.
Now, it beats as one.
My quiet after the storm, I have found you.
Mind, body, and soul, you're mine.
Mind, body, and soul, I'm yours.
And if this were all to be a dream,
then please don't wake me tomorrow, without the feeling of your lips on mine.
YOU ARE READING
VEIL'D MELANCHOLY.
PoetryNeither salt nor sugar settles on your tongue. Only this blood of mine does. Neither I nor she fills up your heart. Only these tears of mine do. [POETRY/PROSE]
