A mist that was a shroud
A hammer that had no anvil
A wind that brought the hidden
And thunder that was not loud
Into me did my lover soak,
Dew drops masquerading down my cheeks
Erratic my heart to beat
My mind heated, set to swirling smoke
This, this was her entrance
As the sun slips to the floor
As a lock keeps a door
Around me collects loves trance
YOU ARE READING
EXPOSED
PoetryA peak behind the curtains, The stripping of the facade, Let's peak inside my head, And prepare to be awed... ;-) Photo is of Lake Nakuru in Kenya.
