Their Love Making Made A Chorus
Lust was hovering on the fringes of the room,
Yes, yes she was nodding,
and like a flower, it would bloom,
her hands burned at his throat,
and the warm sweat would coat,
fingers forcing their way into his collar,
a burning desire just taking it higher,
she gasped as they broke flesh,
her hair slightly pulled back and brushed,
her body aching up, breasts crushed,
their love consumed so much,
and it started with the simplicity of a touch,
but it was their hearts calling,
the room was warm,
eyes deepening,
and there was a log falling,
very slowly in the fire,
drifting downwards into the ash,
flames dancing higher,
and it would last the night,
offering just enough light,
just as a fire should,
as he was holding her tight,
there were tiny holes in the wood,
and in each of the tiny holes,
danced a flame amid the larger flames,
and what whispered through the room were names,
everything was right,
she was tender and he was strong,
nothing could go wrong,
their love making made a chorus,
and the chorus sang a soundless song.
© 2011 Frank Atanacio