The Golden Hour

Waking up to the beguiling golden brightness of the dawn,

with the feel of your touch on my arms

like the sun walking on my skin,

and the fervor of your lips on my breasts

as you melt away into the dissipating mist.

One day we'll break the curse,

one day we'll manage to become what we were always meant to be,

You and me,

waking together every day without having to say farewell.

In the meantime I think of you as I gently bite the cherries that you left by my bedside,

the sweet juice appeasing my mouth that longs for yours,

your perfume still floating in the air like the novels narrate,

and I grab the satin sheets as I recall once again the moment of welcoming you inside!

That moment of bliss, again and again every night,

that one and only window that we have,

the sensation that you leave lingering inside of me,

always giving me the power of creating galaxies!

One day we'll break the curse, when we understand why they hated us so much that they needed us to be parted so,

but for one hour,

to do with it what we will, and what we will we make with it,

and we can only hope that our lives don't become stagnant when we have that one only golden hour no more...

That could not be, could it, though?

We knew each other pretty well before, when our days were bright and simple and our lives creative likewise

our lives were intertwined by music, art and thespian vibes, growing from heartbreak into the light

- into the warm spotlights and poetic artists' designs -

and loving, always loving,

loving, dancing, glowing!

I float in the dawn as memories envelop me like a Taylor Swift song...

and yet, I wish that golden hour never ends!

And then there it is, an unmistakable sound - your voice so rich and deep and melodic it feels the room with it!

Have you broken the curse?

Have you come back to me?

My arms open to receive you

- and my legs do too -

and my voice cries out your name

as your sumptuous lips call out mine...

How did you do it?

How did you break the curse?

That might have to be a story for another day,

as now I wake up in a room filled with light and the cool, crisp air,

wrapped warm your arms,

and your rich, resonant voice asking me if my dreams have been influenced by watching too much Once Upon A Time again.