Monday, October 31, 2011



Please, not just yet.
A sweet fragrance
in all that touches you is
Wait with me as I wait.
Bring your hair to me.
Your shoulders wrapped --

You fall and breathe me in.
We do not speak words.
-- in that dress tonight
yield to whiteness beneath.

The privilege, darling
of unsinned sin
is about to commit itself.

-- © Ciprianowords, Inc. 2011 --

1 comment:

Christopher said...

Great poem! Vivid and visual. Thanks for sharing! Cheers! Chris