PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I am the scent that

clings to his skin

melting my hands

which slide

the texture like that of

leaves bathed with dew.

I am the crinkle

of a smile

that defines his brow, I



am the dust under his shoes

the curl of his toes, the music

in his steps,

clutching my waist

turning me around and

around.



I am the word that rolls

behind his tongue

a magnet on his lips, I breathe

his essence.  In the mellifluous

utterance of my name,

the air bends

sending a rivulet into bubbles,

palpitations at the tip of my hair

the murmurs in the night,

the shade of fire

in his eyes.