Slowly, a single white feather
on her cold, out-stretched palm, *alighted.
She knew then... those thoughts
were of her surrender.

views of sunrise,
my ever disappearing lover,
broke the best.

Consistently paraded  
~but not yet abundant~
this Season of
Love
♥

Her blush becomes him.
Streaming through shutters;
Wide open, within walls of waking dreams.
He desires, her darkest night.

Pure
euhedrals
of unique
   **refraction  
       captured
             upon
              an
      open
lotus
flower,
blossoming
in effulgence
       unswerving      
   throughout  
  piezos &  
    stales of a
      thousand 
          vacuous
                    neurons

**Behind

little doors

of pure temptation

she'll hide sweet treats, of

fascinations. hooked by stockings

  on needle bare trees, she's an angel on top

who knows how to please... twenty five smiles

rapt in love, with
sparkles for free!

I know you, like no other;
"Does it hurt... the truth?"
Searching lips, forge answers;*
Tasting, solidifying, our known proof.