Friday, February 06, 2015

the moment

Image source: Google

the moment

with a flinty strike, you are born
bathing the intimacy in your delicacy

with care, she transfers your heat to the wick
merging your light with vanilla scent
another wick is lit, begetting cinnamon

the dueling candles bend our light
slowing time to half-speed as she
closes the distance between me

and the empty space slowly fills
with small-talk, hushed music,
and silent assumptions that grip
the bare skin of my shoulders,
kneading into my defenses
until they heed her calming command
to relax,

our shadows unfold and elongate,
up the walls
for something we want but cannot see

as time is again stretched,
seconds become half-minutes
breathing slows as heartrate quickens

music is lost, now faded from perception
leaving only the pulse,
synchronized to the sound of her voice
her hands on my flesh, ruling my reality
and her lips, straining awkwardly
to contact my neck

and in that moment,
the seconds become tidal-locked with the moon
spinning me into her,
compelling me to return the kiss
that either hasn’t happened yet,
or has already happened countless times

but within that moment
it did happen, and when it did
there has never been a need so immediately met
never a thirst so heartily quenched

never a drunken moment as sobering
never a fragrance as imprintable
never a heartache so eagerly coveted
and greedily accepted

than what exists within that moment
Image source: Google


  1. I admire that ending stanza and this moment:

    the seconds become tidal-locked with the moon
    spinning me into her