History Seems Empty

Songs scatter between us. Philosophies
too intricate to illustrate in text leave
notes crawling through unspoken words,
unspoken thoughts lingering over melodies.

Toes dipped in sand search for each other,
the tides ebb and flow like cheese and honey.
I taste you on my lips, this constant
wanting over naked flesh, erect nipples,
the quiver of pearl… that exalted breath.

Time eclipses moment when I’m in you.
I become the subconscious
In every breath you take…
Fingers, inexorably loving
the beat of your heart, your hand
on the drum caressing my hips.

You play my future like a maestro yet
today I find my hand grasping at emptiness…

(c) A Hannan

 

 

I’ll be posting up some old poems… be warned -smiles sweetly-

 

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