in a whisper,
the spell of you
drifts
beyond your words,
into a sound,
colored in the ocean’s waves,
rustles over my skin,
like the autumn wind
over a pile
of burning amber,
consumes my breath,
absorbs the moisture
from my bones,
gasping for more,
like the open mouth of the moon,
hungers for the last drops of life,
left in the dark branches of the sleeping woods
c:Nina K Orlovskaya@7/17/2012
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