By Charles Sapp II
Her words spill from her lips
like enchanting smoke whispers
with ghostly enticement.
I want to inhale her verbiage and digest metaphors
while becoming full from her message
as they massage my inner lobes
with angelic harmonic vibrations and celestial tones
accentuating the linguistic fiery passion sung to my soul.
All becomes visible with eyes closed, imagining her touch.
Her touch sends shockwaves to my flesh
and disrupts my network of nerves,
leaving them on high alert with sensory overload.
Her fingers are gravitational wands
influencing my movement
like a marionette on strings dancing to her commands.
Her spell is a seductive sedative,
embraced with a calm touch,
penetrates my affection’s yearning heart,
that beats in unison to her heart’s rhythm.
I dare not peer into her gaze,
without succumbing to her hypnosis,
offering interludes into the future with visions of tranquility
and eternal love fueled with meaningful passion.
Like art, she molds my humanism into a masterpiece
with balanced contrast, brushed stroked to a canvas of lucid reality.
She is my dream come true.
She is the journal I write.
She is the poetry in my life.
She is my life,
because she is my soon to be wife.
like enchanting smoke whispers
with ghostly enticement.
I want to inhale her verbiage and digest metaphors
while becoming full from her message
as they massage my inner lobes
with angelic harmonic vibrations and celestial tones
accentuating the linguistic fiery passion sung to my soul.
All becomes visible with eyes closed, imagining her touch.
Her touch sends shockwaves to my flesh
and disrupts my network of nerves,
leaving them on high alert with sensory overload.
Her fingers are gravitational wands
influencing my movement
like a marionette on strings dancing to her commands.
Her spell is a seductive sedative,
embraced with a calm touch,
penetrates my affection’s yearning heart,
that beats in unison to her heart’s rhythm.
I dare not peer into her gaze,
without succumbing to her hypnosis,
offering interludes into the future with visions of tranquility
and eternal love fueled with meaningful passion.
Like art, she molds my humanism into a masterpiece
with balanced contrast, brushed stroked to a canvas of lucid reality.
She is my dream come true.
She is the journal I write.
She is the poetry in my life.
She is my life,
because she is my soon to be wife.
