Sunday, May 25, 2014


Paris Kiss (1)
Imprison Me!
Earth to sky rapidly narrows into one volatile trice,
I feel you close; thoughts touch without title to price.
My storm’s yours bouncing between bite maps, pluses or intervals sold,
I know you; you’re the blood that pumps through my soul, warm, hot or even cold.

Clouds form and collide in cue as a breath’s held. Imprison me!
Hold my heart into yours and never let it free.
Touch me? With your warmth, like that of a summer sun,
And wait for me as light disrupts the night, commencing a solidary day’s run.

Hold me? So I can smell life and taste your skin,
I lost you, for a moment, wondered why, questioning where you've been.
Kiss me! In gentle tender delight bringing forth warmth that flows,
I am yours always, so please never let me go!

Diana Mary Sharpton © 2014 all rights reserved

1.) Photograph: Paris Kiss.