BY VALENTYNA HOLLOWAY
Soft kisses drawn across still quaking
flesh, heartbeats tangled in the subsiding
pulse of passion.
(closer)
This is the after of our before.
Hands slipping together, fingertips mingling like
salt water and the shore as the slowing waves
bring murmured declarations of love.
(inhale)
This is the after of our before.
Legs slowly moving, hips merged rising
and falling in the quivering dance as the
thrum of the storm turns to peaceful calm.
(exhale)
This is the after of our before.
Breathing deeply in the contentment
of satiated desire, your name purrs
off of my lips as I feel your smile.
(elysium)
This is the after of our before.
Poetry describing love is hardly porn. Closed minded interpretation of the poetry behind a shared dance as obviously depicted by the accompanying photo. Try sharing a dance with someone you love some time, perhaps you will understand the way I felt writing this.
A profound interpretation of a moment of beauty. The photograph underneath a nice touch. The photograph above in a lovely setting however that is not you in the photo. A shame you are not standing in the surf in that spot of paradise.
Poetry porn. Disgraceful! Marvellous.
I know you are taken. But will you at least do me the honour of a cup of tea?