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a work in progress...

Battuto Appassionato

the sharp curve of your mouth disarms my gaze with a knowing smile
i am caught, time on hold
gulping uncertain breath...

tempo suddenly accelerated beyond measurable grasp
only your lips' fiery cadence lingers in soundless echo.

Transitive Collection

courting my thoughts
you beckon, easily
entrancing time
tumbling forward you're

kneading me weak
inhaling my sighs,
collapsing my will.

1:34 a.m.

In a dimly-lit room
In a naked embrace
With fingertips pressing the curve of your spine,
I'll take you in.