When Time Holds Its Breath (Part II - Flesh & Fire)

I feel you

slipping

against the edges

of my soul,

slow, certain,

a pulse beneath my ribs.

Moments stretch,

time folds

around the warmth of us,

and I wait

to melt into your gaze,

to taste

the quiet fire

of your being

brushing

against mine.

The world

holds its breath,

and so do I,

in the sacred stillness

where skin remembers

what souls know,

where waiting

becomes a slow, sacred worship,

and living

is the trembling

of our bodies

finally,

finally entwined.

Reviews

[Art Sun]

Finally...

Even within a short prose of thoughts you bring out that raw emotional setting of thoughts entwined togetherness and finality...

Nice...

[Curly Grace]

Thank you, Art

[Thomas W Case]

Beautiful work. Powerful writing.

[Curly Grace]

Thank you, Thomas