Wednesday, January 28, 2009

It dies at dawn

There is a portrait
breathing inside my mind.

I'm thinking of you.

Your eyes like emeralds.
Your hair like silk.
Your lips like orchids.

You whispered like a saint
"I bring good luck".
and just as softly,
we kissed.

You are utopian
in touch
in beauty
in words
in voice.

Hathor
come to life
twenty two years ago.

Two glasses of wine.
Two people.
Two hearts.
One feeling.

You need no work.
You are you.

I fell for one of God's creations
in a smokey bedroom
at Midnight.

No comments: