Sizing me up with your smoldering eyes, your love beckons
To me—longing to intertwine my fingers in yours, lace them through
Elongated blades of grass, as you and I spend time 'away from here'—
Pick wild flowers, frolicking, skirting somewhere along Central Park and
Heaven; time continues to develop in laden sepia tones, transporting
Every kiss from our technicolor world—I have met infinity—between the
Newness of your lips, before the frozen landscape of love; after the fall.
YOU ARE READING
Waxing Quixotic[POETRY]
PoetryQuixotic: hopelessly naive/idealistic. This is a poetry collection about love, and all the things we do to attain it--good or bad.