touch

[sweetwater]

as if tasted from within your breath spills through each fissure of oblivious darkness
seeps into me warmly as i step into the clearing of our gentle rendezvous
as i grow wild within this touch and enter the realm out of time
that dreams me over and over again

this touch living within the nameless sky that keeps its distance whole
and that widens in you, in me,as it envelopes us and we meet
outside the world of our evanescent eyes

this touch blooming from crystals and semen and ancient dust, flowering
with such unquenchable flames and eternal breathing

again and again it begins through time in a process ending in circles
proliferating into dimensions spoken as if geometry formed the cohesion of opposites
becoming the expression itself waiting in silence lasting as if each moment ended abruptly
only to instill and remember the instilling
only to move as to prevent further movement
this touch played into the night as an ancient ritual of salt crystals
beaded into the perfumed nascent night and darkness
created the separation and bonded in separate unified distances
the chasm that laid between us the opening itself became metaphor
the oceans that once stood as obstacles became water-born and distilled
in the utterances spoken in dream content and moist mornings

again and again it begins as if memory itself ended
only again to be excited by the soft decay of small orchidial embraces

aha was what you said
it was the last expressed organic response that i could remember
and how my heart beat vibrant into full breast
and the taste of peaches and the smell of chocolate
became my breath
i breathed gasping in the orifice opening wide into realms and offerings
the sweetness of the silence carried itself as a ghost inside the drying
of my skin
and the rest of eternity at least for which seemed more than
a day week or month of lost posture
and how the event of separation became
a leaflet in the dried pages of a frayed novel
hiding on a bookshelf

[panta rhei]

out of the forest i step
step into the glade
into the opening
step out of time

i accede to the orifice
and to the scent of orchids
and lie down on soft sunwarmed moss
lay myself down on the flipside of dreams

waiting for your breath to enter
waiting for this touch
and awaiting
to come full circle

as if the memory itself could end
and became your breathing

as if the metaphor could become the story
and the story the heartbeat
and the heartbeat the pulse
that would blow up the bookshelf
and rip all pages

out of the forest i step

[SmileGRL]

and the taste of peaches and the smell of chocolate
became my breath

love this line!

[Doreen Peri]

I just adore this!

This is beautiful!

this begs to be spoken aloud!

would love to record this... it's stunning

[panta rhei]

oh, of course.... should you ever find the time to record it - do it! (and let us hear. it's sort of a spontaneous cooperational piece by sweetwater and me).
we'd be truly honoured to be expressed by your poetic voice.

thanks for reading, liking, and kindly commenting, doreen!

[sweetwater]

you're welcome panta