a snowflake.
a tender whisper.
the winter dies on my lips.
your touch summons desires
in my solar plexus:
still, cold, blue, breathless…
and alive, red, vibrating
in your hands…
evaporating together…
broken flowers smells
like
lovemaking.
making
clouds to drop in sheer silk
over our skin… enmeshed, left behind…
while the vapors of our souls
soars high…
surrender in a free fall,
knowing the safe,
the bird, the wings…
while together.
while a miracle.
while love… .
© 2012 by Nina K Orlovskaya
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