I will come
like the first rain,
fragrant and trusting.
Scent of honeysuckle and full moons,
smell of soft black soil.
Cool and pale skin of silence
which unwinds forever from its spool,
and passes through us like water
with fingers that flow like rivers
covered in a diamond flesh.
My body is a delicate egg
which waits for you
who would break open its shell.
I love to sit
upon your lips
like a sweet obsession,
thick and sticky
moving toward my end.
It is a divine hunger, this creation.
On the road
leaving behind scattered stars.
Tomorrow a song shall ripen and fall.
Delicate moths have just been born
and they are already
wildly winging their way
toward light’s oblivion.
I am on the threshold of love &
in my next breath I will be yours.
© 2013 Melissa Fry Beasley, All Rights Reserved