Within the darkness of my dreams
I hear the symphony stirring.
I look into the pools of your dark, amber eyes;
My body attunes itself to the desire burning within.
You say I am the harp, and you are the musician;
But we both know the truth–
I am the musician.
The harmony begins as your breath falls across my lips.
The first note crescendos slowly,
The sound emanates with an ethereal beauty,
I run my fingers fluidly through your hair,
Feeling the legato-like softness of those silken curls.
My lips taste the hollow of your throat,
Et con vaghezza,
The beauty of B minor is revealed…
The tone of a sour note
Breaks the melodious harmony.
The strings of the harp break.
The symphony ends abruptly.
The harmony must forever remain incomplete…
February 21, 2011- 01.30 a.m.
*grazioso (graceful) in this context means grace to encourage the fluidity of the poetry 😉
*Switched grazioso to vaghezza 😀