PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Carmen whispered, into the red smoke, something sweet.

A heart beat fluttered under those sheets.

Martin was not used to tameness from her words

Thus frailty carried his response from its birth.

Her lips sank into the pillow case and dripped out sounds of water

Droplets which largely soaked the down but somewhat traveled as vapor.

And so, it rained upon reaching his ear.



She spoke. “I love to be spun.”

And with these words she kissed his collar.

Martin always knew she chose him for his physique.

A reason as to why never challenged his intellectuality.

It was clear to him. He made her scream and twist and turn--

But Martin knew now what his definition concerned.

He grabbed both of her shoulders, one cupped in each hand,

And tumbled from the covers into a box encasing sand.

He pulled the beaded cord for the lamp above his head.

As the light swept from the floor he found his words and said,

“As a lover I could drink you with these arms until we end.

I will twirl you in the sky where the purple martins fly

Now and forever, your best friend.”