Poem Hunter
Beloved Memory
SC (August 1,1951 / Yorkshire, England)

Beloved Memory

Sweet One
Your voice is a mystery to me!
A delicious enchantment of rapture and torment
It taunts me with husky, sentiment.
Can I find your liquid letters?
Spilling and dripping from me,
Like honey.
It sticks and tricks, quiet torment
I lick at the lips of your desire
Close my eyes.
Dying a little as it closes and folds around my ears.
My heart beats in quiet contentment,
Tickling my senses and pausing for a quiet time
Within my breast.
Am I dead then?
Or simply shedding another me,
To delight you and entice you once more!
Whisper within me
Shout your beloved anointment!
I feel it a whimper, a foreign huskiness
That senses surrender and gives as is given.
Lie back contented.
Demented in tone and trembling with heat.
I am sated, complete.
With relief, I lie back and draw in your sweetness.
Little tremors of echo replete in my soul.
You sigh, I moan.
One voice together.
I find home.

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