Lying next to your body, my world is still
Whether centuries have gone, or a moment,
Time is unnamed
A thousand words I can give to you
But thousand strangers they are,
To the way you move against me
And if the drumming of our hearts dare to meet,
They sound a symphony
Wayward mine is, you play it like a violin
For its strings ring with our poetry,
When your fingertips dance,
Across my body to my lips
For what an unexplainable matter it is,
They are stained with your kisses
What kisses they are, what details of linger
©mishkarouge™











