One silent summer
was a passion,
the heat of a reach
two lovers
finding each other
skin to skin,
mouths that would search
find desire,
a journey of lips
finding arousal,
traveling along her back,
sounds of gasps
so very real, so very welcome,
the hands would then reach
reaching
diving inside the center of her
sensuality,
suddenly alive,
hands would grip his own
asking for a similar abandon
breathe,
summer winds into the autumn
of our lives,
still the kiss,
long and enduring
wanton and forever,
the eyes inside each other’s soul,
until the final vortex
the icy depths of winter
did now overwhelm
a lover’s choice,
that desire that want that exploration
suddenly mired by the conscience,
we would only recall,
the passionate summer
in a memory,
a haste, a chaste
mindset –
too real to imagine nostalgic
apersonaljourney - stories of love 