Musings by The Poet Loriet
Blessings
I savor the feeling
of my hands fluttering
over quivering skin,
small pleasures that
I won't succumb to,
because I still pray
for one final union
with you, lover.
I toss and burn
waiting for your touch
and when you enter
my church, I want
to speak in tongues
and be baptized by
your passionate fire.
I want you to feel
the strength of
repressed moments
shudder over your
entire body as
I pray your name
and angels sing.
Kneel before me.
Let me be your goddess.
I will take you to heaven
one final hour in hopes
that you'll see the light
of my love for you,
fluttering at the end
of the tunnel on
babyblue wings.
Soft. Soft.
Bow your head
for an angel's
final kiss.
Lori Beal
of my hands fluttering
over quivering skin,
small pleasures that
I won't succumb to,
because I still pray
for one final union
with you, lover.
I toss and burn
waiting for your touch
and when you enter
my church, I want
to speak in tongues
and be baptized by
your passionate fire.
I want you to feel
the strength of
repressed moments
shudder over your
entire body as
I pray your name
and angels sing.
Kneel before me.
Let me be your goddess.
I will take you to heaven
one final hour in hopes
that you'll see the light
of my love for you,
fluttering at the end
of the tunnel on
babyblue wings.
Soft. Soft.
Bow your head
for an angel's
final kiss.
Lori Beal
Comment On This Poem ---
Blessings
Blessings
