PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

My lips trembled when I first said your name because I couldn't believe that a look could be so intoxicating.  I would say your name alot more if I knew that you would respond quicker but when I see you it feels like my tongue gets thicker and the liquor in your kiss makes my speech slur.



I attempt to reach out to you but I'm not sure if you are the one on the left, the right, or the middle.  You only kissed me once but if left a riddle in my mind that seemed to bind my sense of logic, my left brain restrained by the loss of my equilibrium.  



You kiss me again and I feel the wind from my lungs expirate, my body levitate, and I am satiated with infatuation.  This situation has become dire and the fire in my libido is starting to consume my composure.  There is an immediate erosure of my confidence and my sense-making synapses have started to misfire.  As I try to make sense of this quagmire of confusion the illusion of you and me passionately involved in coitus knocks the dust from my locked away lust.  I realize that if I am to save myself from you I must act now but some how all I can do is watch.



As you extend your honey coated, butterscotch hands over my body my universe merges with yours and all doors leading to logic and common sense close.  Nose to nose our eyes meet once again and you send me astrologically seeking synchronicity.  The melding of your being with mine will begin in time and though it all seems fine, I am afraid.  I've never been this drunk from a kiss but I would be remiss if I considered this any less than a spiritual thang.



So when my indigo meets your hot-buttered rum let the cycle be the ring we exchange because to me you were never strange. Let it be known that the concept of soul-mates is not over-blown.  It is sown into the cosmos and backed up by the Host of hosts as the most forgotten method of finding your way back to where you came from.