White roses sleeping in champagne
He sits by the window,
absorbing the reflections of midnight blue.
Inhaling the molecules of her perfume,
counting the raindrops that sculpture her whispers,
their lips rhyming with the silence.
He has this vision, almost sparkling,
how her curls chase
the naked beauty of his shoulders.
He holds her with the grip of a hunter,
letting her lean into the sands of his eyes.
He dishevels the rhythm of her heart,
fierce, with the touch of a windy moonlight,
just enough to show her the essence of love …
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© 2011 Broken Sparkles