PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I saw her stare

on the drive to work

in the morning glare of the sun.

Like last night,

it was above me

and wet with heat;

how the sheets squirmed

under her bright blush

and at the right touch of my hand:

that fingertip brush

across her canvas.



Entangled in a blanket

of her own whimpers,

I could swear I never witnessed

a more beautiful vulnerability.

And for a moment

the world was pristine,

the galaxies in sync with the heavens,

stillness awash in song:



         "Come back to me, baby

         'cause waiting just aches too much

          like the gap between rhymes.

          And I can't tell if I'm falling in love

          but it's sure as hell

          falling on me like a downpour,

          and I'm soaking in

          what I'm thankful is mine."