for Her

(off da top)

it is You
who holds my thoughts hostage
cold shivers caressing my spine, as every pore
keeps responding to a subtle breeze…in my direction
unworthy, i don’t think so
good enough, i do not know
but actually – nothing really matters
underneath the lids which consume magic
create tragic - wanted, i must admit…
Your eyes invite me in …over and over again
pride, lost in yesterdays longing uncertainty
now a mere smother upon a former brats mouth, only
verbs and vowls chanting Your Beauty alive
mingle upon my tongue, my heart
producing serenades of free falling
into You..
giving
in…to
verbalized emotions, incoherently
however -
mind, body and soul
do not longer
belong to me…..
.
.
.
.
.
.

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