Slow Train

The look in your eyes
Hits me like a
Slow-moving train
At the intersection
Of my so-lonely
Thighs.

In the summer sun
Where I love to bask…
All you would have to do
Is ask.

Engrained in my heart’s grooves
Under your fingers
I move
Slowly,
Dripping honey,
Falling stars and fireflies.
Cool evening breeze,
My hips in beautiful hands
To seize.
My love on the tip of your tongue
Causes Soft Mourning,
Desperate Pleas.
Cheek to the ground
Dead leaves under my knees.
Our Microcosm
Manifestations of my desire.

37 comments

  1. Hyacinth

    I wish I could create this kind of beauty. Sometimes I wonder if you could write one for me because my attempt would be nothing but a misfire.

    • Cruel Intentions

      Hy my dear you can be or do what ever you chose words of beauty and grace are in you just waiting for you to discover them

    • pivoine68

      Hy, you already do create beauty every day. I started a poem called “Ode to T.N.” for you a while back but it makes no sense and I can’t really figure out what it is I want to say about him, for you. Those photos keep coming to mind and I get all…(?) flustered. He’s such a HUGE topic!

      Love,
      Dawn

  2. Cruel Intentions

    If thread was desire and silk formed from lust a garment woven from such would be a rag next to your tapestry of words sweet dawn

    • pivoine68

      hehehe! Your last post (that I read…I get behind.) left me searching for a paper bag to breath into! I nearly had an attack! So I guess the ball is once again in your court. Maybe I’ll look into purchasing an oxygen bottle or something. Just to be on the safe side of my desires. (is there a safe side?)

      Thank you My Sweetness!

      Bigger Bisous,
      Dawn

    • pivoine68

      Well, I wrote that for this guy on the bus…it was standing room only and in a round-about I accidentally stepped on his foot. I said, “Sorry.” and he said, “No problem.” I guess that means no, he didn’t ask. 🙂

      Thank you Miss Noodle!

      Noodle Bisous,
      Dawn

  3. pjacemarneau

    This is so evocative, Dawn. The best poetry uses words to trigger our own impressions of those words, and you do that excellently!
    – Jace

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