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 |    A book to house all my Poetic Explorations |
| My longing for you is like a passion flower, which seed was gawkily deposited by a bird into a dark crevice where the sunlight shun. It grows yet relentlessly poke its head, grappling amongst the rocks to savor the morning sun. I yearn to hold you like a vine that grows beneath the thicket, below the towering trees. As it struggles to climb and hugs each olden bark of the oak to gasp at the noon-time breeze. My hungry body hungers for your warm embrace Fingers thirst for the feel of your tenderest lips How it misses the moment as it gracefully fumbles On your muscular and manly chest. My dear, it has been a month now since you left I wish you can hear my heartbeat beacons like springing cymbals. |
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