WordSmith

Without her, I can see where my life is going—It is going to waste.

Her lips taste like lemon tart.Whenever I feel dizzy, I take a bite of the lemon.

I believed that someday she would write a poem for me, just as I write for her.

A message from you feels like a blessing from God.

Her smile is the home where my gaze finds rest.

We apologized for mistakes we never made,Not because we were submissive,But because we believed everything was fair in love.

The atmosphere of love transformed me,from a comet into a shooting star.

You and I, sitting by the campfire,I long to kiss you so deeply,Making love until dawn. Holding you gentlyFills me with warmth,Foraging for your filthy, fervid loveAmidst a sensual storm. The fragrance of your valley of loveCarries the scent of an exquisite orchid,Drowning in a torrid honey bottle,Nibbling your cheeks from the pottle. Let’s quench…

I thought I was her favorite book of poetry on the bookshelf.

Let’s exchange our souls.