Wednesday, January 27, 2016

Love or life?

His fingertips across my skin,
Tremble my body with every resonating move,
As if he is playing the piano,
He touches every spot,
With the same amount of passion,
He has for enduring in his music,
If only I was his muse,
Yet I can not hardly be,
The one that inspires thy,
For I am merely a girl,
Not even the littlest of a woman,
Or a flower in bloom,
I am only flourishing at falling,
For you so unstoppable,
I do not know,
How to hold on to letting go,
Gravity leaves me be,
As I find myself,
Yet again,
In your arms tonight,
Writing poetry across my skin,
Oh this art I live in,
How could it be called?
Love or life? 

Take my hand and write it full with,
The poetry your fingertips leave,
So gently on my skin. 























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