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By chris Date: 2006 May 13 Comment on this Work [[2006.05.13.13.06.15532]] |
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I. Learning you was like learning Bach - seemingly easy at first, utterly beautiful - and I marveled at the simplicity of each note rising from the harpsichord like clear, white smoke. Then I found worlds waiting, hiding in the shadows cast by the cadenza, the negative spaces between the last sustained C and the terrible blooming beauty of the passaglia and how I could just touch it before it raced away from me like sunset in winter. II. I open the blinds and moonlight floods in, bathing your spread thighs in light - off-white cinnamon, semisweet mocha kissed by me, kissed by night. Your hair smells like lavender, the air like sex and strawberry and you open like a flower that blooms once every hundred years - and then evolution accelerated, leaving us breathless, exhilarated, and you suddenly found ways to do it again and again. |