Midnite Shroud
The dark hours of the morning press round me, closing in like some perpetual fog of times end. This is my favourite time of the day. Lifes din has been shamed into silence by nites eternal mystery. Here i feel closest to worlds that limited senses long ago forgot.
My mind churns; events played out neath a waning sun of days past parade by in random order. Here a glimpse of powder blue eyes, elsewhere flows the salty taste of tears, the air electrifies at memory of passion stirred. Oh !!! The passion of life !
Senses invade the physical: commanding, demanding response. Lips curve seductively at corner. Of course i respond: willing victum of my own passion. I am a junkie to sensation !!
Let it roll me, chew at me, sweep me this way and that! I go willingly...nay.... eagerly. I will feed on it as it devours me !
The soft murmer of conversation circles round me in perptual motion, sweetened by memory of love. Calming, beckoning; extracting heartfelt sigh. I can almost see the breath passing from soul to endless void.
It is late. Perhaps i should go to sleep and wake from this dream.
Location
Ontario