Poetry is not about rhythm like the heartbeat of a baby
Neither about display of grandiose words from an old treasure chest
Poetry is not constructed by three pairs of spider's spinnerets
Neither made by sticky saliva of termites

It is a choice of a hand connected to the veins of the heart
It is a chance of finding a warm spot
It is a change of fate

I can hear her heart...
As a matter of fact ..
I can see it pounding

Suddenly she saw me,
her face blushed
I came closer and
I touched her hands
I felt the chemistry
tingle up my spine

I put my arms around her
and I grabbed her closer to me
Looking in her eyes
saw them like jewels looking at me

with a sudden urge, I kissed her
gently .. My lips slowly moved away
without letting go

I moved around .. caressing her lips..
She opened her mouth
I could not resist to unite with her
I kissed her again
carried her slowly

I heard music in my ears
It was me playing the guitar
strumming the sweetest sounds of love

As we kissed .. our soles got closer
We stayed united all night till dawn
Then we saw ourselves as one