Rapture

Your breath sends
shivers down my spine
caressing
each taught hair;
tuning each
violin string to
high pitched notes,
to gentle sins
of dew blessed
white roses plucked
firmly out of
their earthly
bosom: chalice
of rosen,
black soul-bled tears.
They all flush
my fears and pains
sinking them
to the molten
firmament,
tampering time's
march through this
barren land of
breeze-shaped bumps
heated by this
feeble heart:
ecstatic to
such soft dabs.

by Daniele Pinna

Other poems of PINNA (17)

Comments (0)

There is no comment submitted by members.