Diamonds Within Our Hair

Lover of the mid hours, where is my early light? You are sugar from honey that melts into crazed pores of my fabric skin. I imagine walks in the park, drifting through the pale moonlight with you holding my hand, and I yours, squeezing mine so tenderly. You turn me to face you and tug me close, raise my chin enough so that our eyes meet, and bring me even closer for a milky kiss from your suede lips. Childish snow taps softly down on top of our glazed heads and creates diamonds within our hair. I have this longing for you to sweep in up into your shouting arms where we'd gracefully intertwine our christened branches. The lion's roar shakes down our hungry chambers, causing us to gently rock one another to sleep. Warmly, a touch, a gentle stroke of the breathing pen glides lovingly across my erotic paper and bleeds my hidden desires out of my chantilly soul. Together we spread electricity in and out of this volcano.