Mysterieuse
This now
Was not the first
Nor the last
She knows with certainty
The familiarity
Of his touch
The sensuality
Of the hands that pull her closer
La dame de onze heures
Takes her last breath
As the liminal space between time
Ebbs
Leaving only
The peculiar sensation
Of having been removed from her body
As his lips
Touch the bare of her skin
And she can see the waves of her hair
As they fall
Down her back
As she peers over the shoulder of the man in white
She watches
Herself in his arms
The softness of his mouth
The tenderness of his gaze through hooded eyes
His fingers
Wrapped so gently around her arms
Utterly taken
In this most intimate moment
He had
After all
Danced across time, space, dimension
And eternity
To taste the exquisiteness
Of this most generous present moment
With her
About the Creator
Lena Kelly
living in the written word is like living in two worlds or three or more....those who constantly create see things from so many altered and different perspectives..... i am in constant awe of creators and love and appreciate you all x
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Final Call
She flings her arms around my neck and squeezes me like she’s never going to let me go. My head spins as her lips brush against my cheek. She must be able to feel my heart thumping in my chest. I shuffle backwards and ram my hands into my coat pockets, watching her reach down and heave the rucksack across her shoulders.
By Caroline Craven2 days ago in Fiction
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