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By Cyan Date: 2002 Mar 27 Comment on this Work [[2002.03.27.02.43.25352]] |
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Laying on finespun bed covers we reminisce of the day Soft winds from the window carries your words to my face This clouded breeze breaks into lettered rain drops and wets my ear with your vocal embrace A conversation that bears no real significance yet it stirs my soul like a mixture of fire and ice Your idle words are superior to any musical instrument Their rhythmic vibration harmonizes with the beat of my heart and creates a composed melody more beautiful than anything Mozart could have ever written Our eyes join in direct unison. They ignite and dance in a heat of desire made with the vision of love Exhausted from this mirage of fairyland the wind that has enveloped us through the night subsides and slips your words into my hand as your eyes slowly begin to close I clasp it to my face the way a child would hold a seashell from the shore to it's ear-imagining a sound of utmost avail Holding your slumber image with my gaze I can only wonder if my words are your utopia For yours are truly my arcadia |