Riding the Tips

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Cotton sheets
In twisted bodies hold
Soaked remains
Of passion strong and bold
A distant clock
Marks passing time
Like faded bruises
And criss-cross lines

A buoyant lust
Holds lovers high
The ebb and flow
Of passions fires
Each swirling in
A spirals rise
Ever climbing
Care denied

Interwoven thoughts
Words need not spoken
Anticipated needs
Spell never broken
A bewitching blend
Of love and need
Reckless mood
Not caution heeds

Inevitable plateau
Love’s Darker Angles rest
Riding tips of waves
And bliss’ crest
Till toes do rest
In cotton sheets
And two hearts do beat
As in one chest

~Darker Angels, May 6, 10

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