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A poem is never finished, only abandoned.  ~Paul Valéry
Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance.  ~Carl Sandburg
Poetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn.  ~Thomas Gray
Poetry is not always words.  ~Audrey Foris
Poetry is the rhythmical creation of beauty in words.  ~Edgar Allan Poe


Pure Bliss
2005-12-11 - 9:00 p.m.

minutes, hours
Days…time immortal
in your arms
in your hands.
Beneath your heat
Against your skin
in my mouth…
my heart, my soul
my breath, my heat
bliss, ecstasy
Pleasure, paradise
Our time stood still.

Pure bliss
In the palm of my hand
Velvety smoothness
Encased in hard flesh

One minute, one hour,
Time immortal
Seconds blend to infinity
With me
Giving the love
I have to give

Time stands still
in the face of pure bliss
Pleasure found in
The softness of my mouth

One breath,
One soul
Our bodies touch and burn
Like a raging inferno
One moment, in time.

Minutes, hours, days,
Seconds pass by so quickly
Faced with your love
And the enormity of the situation
I yearn for time to stop
The hands on the clock to freeze
To give more time, more moments
More seconds in a minute
To show you my appreciation.

raw || truth
Past Memories:

2006-01-13 - Fear In My Skin
2006-01-10 - The Moon - Our Silent Audience
2005-12-14 - Promise
2005-12-11 - Pure Bliss
2005-08-31 - In This Grave