Haiku on Friday 5.8

slipping between sheets

scented of afternoon sun

smooth against a burn

.

your warm lips brushing

across even warmer skin

ever so gently

.

even in the dark

as you turn into my kiss

your smile shines brightly

Tanka 4.18

I stand at the sink

your hand trailing down my arm

lips brushing my neck

I turn and lean into you

as breakfast begins to burn

silver and gold

bare shoulder bathed

in the waning golden sunlight

you turn towards me

.

I’m blinded by the

sun, your smile, as my face tips

upward for a kiss

.

your arm anchoring

me to you, rocking on waves

of each sleeping breath

.

eyelashes casting

lengthy shadows across your

cheek, all tips painted

silver from the gibbous moon

hanging in our sky tonight

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ignoring limits

an asymptote
your lips hovering
drawing closer by infinitesimal increments
until I feel their warmth just before
they finally press against mine.

and thus begins summer

a cold, dark evening
clouds huddle around starlight,
the ending of May

whispering summer
lilacs mingle with your scent
as I pull you near

full moon burgeoning
silver spills across the ground
painting black shadows

of us standing close
our legs merging into one
amalgamation

white breath-clouds eclipsing
your face as we kiss

Essence

dawn waits with bated breath
for morning’s kiss to lower
onto her tender upturned lips

It is the infinitesimal space
as your mouth is descending slowly
the hesitation before brushing ever so softly
against mine

the heartbeat that stretches
pregnant with the weighty hush
of expectation
protracting moments with its potential

like the heaviness of night’s footsteps
as he slips from evening’s bed
leaving behind her blushing skies
to face the day alone

metaphors and similies

To me, you are

warm rain
sweeping through
the barren desert

a fine mist seeping
into freshly turned
rich dark earth

fine chocolate
melting on my tongue
decadent and indulgent

the fire well stoked
hot in the early hours
of a bitterly cold morn

kisses brushed
softly across
the nape of my neck

tiny dust motes
basking golden in the sun
when before
they had passed unnoticed

like these moments,
I love you