Incredible it seems to me
that you are sitting there so delicately,
a flowering smile above your tea,
the tresses of your hair a sea
that keeps secret the raptures of the sheets,
and as your hands tap out their beat
on bare thighs that gleam of richest cream,
I smell your scents awakening dreams
of all the songs I’ve hungrily sung,
of fruits and wines that have romanced my tongue,
of destinations cherished through the years,
of moments rimmed in warm fresh tears,
yet there you sit relaxed and sweetly free,
the keeper of this beating heart of me.
Gene Blackmont lives in Eastern PA. An aspiring poet, Gene is currently working on his first poetry collection, which he hopes to self-publish soon. His work frequently focuses on love, lust, darkness, nature, and reflection. He is also a self-confessed twitter addict (@QuietDaemon), which he uses to explore his muses and his friendships. Check out more of his work at A Symmetry of Longing.