Lips met in clumsy haiku,
against each other, pressed,
the way the earth touches the sky,
soft and whimsy as the dusk.
Tongues painted passion-
halcyon atmosphere, infused,
-upon every awaiting space offered.
Metaphors dotted the hallows of limbs and tasted like the seasons-
a bursting and vibrant spring,
a hot and passionate summer,
an adventurous and teasing autumn,
a cozy and comfortable winter,
-all at once.
Skin smelled like Frangipani, an offering-
blossoming with intensity as the sun draped itself in twilight's shawl,
-and felt like a brick wall crumbling beneath my fingertips.
Alliteration as loud as the evening's stars,
and whispers of sunlight's warmth,
caught in-between our breaths, blanketed the two of us.
Diction tickled my lips,
dancing like raindrops, meandered
down my spine;
an elegy of the day's worry,
an epitaph to forgetful times.
I kissed a poet once-
long and hard,
soft and short,
-tapping out Morse code for my soul.
The arms of a thousand lovers harnessed in us, a couplet,
held the kiss 'til morning's light.
I kissed a poet once.
Copyright © 2011 Jen Fowler
All Rights Reserved