Poetry

[amazon_syren]

Making Beautiful Music

we are curled (on the couch)
twining limbs and voices

songs, like sweet nothings
murmured into ears
over skin

breath mingles
a kiss without lips touching

born of music

made of song


*~*~*~*~*


Floodplain

This love
is as spring after too long
a winter spent icebound

it is soft
slow rain
after years of drought

I feel my heart crack open
Beating again
This river fills
Flows
And overflows
Its banks
And I am flooded

Finally
(finally)

This land my body
Can live again

This land
my body
can bloom