I stole away,
to be with her,
a wintry chill
gave reason to smile
eyes crisp in a late autumn
while the days did seem
more moving to frozen rains
the memories of such
fogged passions
cold leather seats
on naked sensuality
we would forever draw lips
upon each other
without concern
beyond having
one another,
having each other,
finding our center
through roaming hands,
clinging thighs,
wet sultry avenues of torturous passion,
while outside
the winds would certainly change,
our lives as they are now,
caught in a breeze,
drifting slowly toward
some distant horizon,
where the warmth of our memory,
would rise and set with the seasons.
apersonaljourney - stories of love 