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Intoxicating Entwined: A Free Verse Poem of Surrender and Passion
This free verse poem delves into the raw intensity of a passionate love affair. Every detail, from the "cool tile floor" to the "wild tangle of black silk" hair, paints a picture of an intimacy that transcends physical touch. The poem uses evocative language to capture the emotional journey. The speaker describes the woman's touch as "a gentle pressure that left my skin tingling," and her scent as "a heady mix of soap and skin and something sweet." These details create a sense of intoxication and vulnerability. As the poem progresses, the connection deepens. Their bodies "a warm, living flame" pressed together, and their fingers "intertwined like the twisted roots of an ancient tree." The language suggests a level of devotion and unity that transcends the physical act. The final lines declare their complete surrender to one another. "I knew I was hers, body and soul," the speaker admits, and their bond is described as "strong," a "whole" that cannot be broken. This poem explores themes of desire, intimacy, and the transformative power of love
Intoxicated Hearts
I remember the way she moved,
her bare feet silent on the cool tile floor.
The soft rustle of her robe as she slipped it off,
like the sound of a page turning in a well-worn book.
Her skin, a warm golden brown,
like the leather of a well-oiled saddle.
Her fingers, deft and sure,
tracing the curve of my jaw,
the slope of my nose.
Her touch,
a gentle pressure that left my skin tingling.
Her eyes, dark and deep,
like the stillness of a forest pool,
watched me, searched me,
as if seeking some hidden truth.
The scent of her,
a heady mix of soap and skin and something sweet,
like the ripeness of a summer peach,
filled my nostrils, making my mouth water.
Her lips, full and soft,
like the petals of a freshly opened flower,
skimmed against mine,
a feather-light touch,
I could feel a cold wave of fear spread through me,
making my movements sluggish and my skin prickle.
Her hair, a wild tangle of black silk,
cascaded down her back like a waterfall,
the ends tickling my chest as she leaned in close.
Her breath, warm and sweet,
like the scent of freshly baked bread,
softly voiced something she didn't want others to hear,
making my heart race.
Her hands, strong and sure,
like the grip of a skilled rock climber,
grasped my hips, pulling me close,
as if she'd never let me go.
Her body, a warm, living flame,
pressed against mine,
making my skin burn with a fire that threatened to consume me.
Her skin, smooth and unblemished,
like the surface of a still pond,
felt like silk beneath my fingers,
making me want to touch, to explore,
to claim every inch of her.
Her muscles, taut and strong,
like the coiled power of a spring,
flexed beneath my touch,
making me feel like a conqueror.
The taste of her, sweet and salty,
like the ocean air on a summer day,
filled my mouth,
making me hungry for more.
Her fingers, intertwined with mine,
like the twisted roots of an ancient tree,
held me fast, as if she'd never let me go.
I was hers, completely, utterly,
like a leaf blown on the wind.
Her touch, her kiss, her body,
were my world,
my everything.
I was lost, adrift, in the sea of her,
and I never wanted to find my way back to shore.
I knew I was hers, body, and soul,
like a possession,
like a treasure.
And I knew she was mine,
equally, utterly,
like two halves of a whole.
We were one, our bond was strong;
we did everything as a pair,
never drifting apart, never.
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© 2024 Kingsley Gomes. All rights reserved.
About the Creator
Kingsley Gomes, PhD.
Professional engineer with a passion for storytelling, crafting compelling narratives that explore the human experience. Author of poetry, short stories, and inspirational articles, weaving words into emotional journeys.
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Comments (1)
The imagery is so good. Your words really create an atmosphere!