the sensory motion
of a feeling,
her touch
would in its
silent immediacy
take me somewhere
warm,
didn’t matter how
or why or when,
just the moment
that I might feel shelter
a sweet resonate
touch
would it be that this
might have
begun some silent sojourn
only I
could endeavor
to walk away
for it was me that so
did, does yearn
to feel that sensual nature
designed in love …
your touch.
I still do
moments
early morning silence
waves of you.
I check
feel the shudder
my body impaled
lonely is wrath
Listen to the clock
taps of time
In quiet reality
without you.
Becoming familiar
finding absence again
checking sites
the only part you give.
If I allow time to consume
and I do because
I want to always,
you … my cleansing morning
Cry
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| Yernasia Quorelios on The Truth About Suicide |
They're mine, and yours 'cause our voice got lost somewhere in between. Welcome home...
So Dawn Goes Down to day
writings from my heart and soul
stories on adventure, and travel, and real life
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Where Myths Are Maybe Real
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Children's book illustrator & writer
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A little bit of me, with a little bit of you. A little of the old mixed with the new. A little too loud, a little too shy. A little grounded and a little high. A little bit of sad and a little bit of laugh. A little bit of evrything i carry in my heart. This is my blog that highlights other works, for my poems and musings please follow me on http://myshellecongeries.wordpress.com/
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