Lay my body beneath the stars and undress the layers of my being that have never been tasted... Breathe in my essence as it escapes my lips....taste the soul that has taken up abode in this fragile frame of forgetting.
Lay my naked body beneath the heavens and let me lay with yours....
that if the stars for once could gaze upon us and make wishes on the sparks that flew from the choreographed carnal collision of our star bodies
Exploding through the cells of every fiber of flesh
our language of love being spoken in silence but singing between lips and longing.
To be lost and found and forgotten and witnessed under the very blanket of being that brought us to this world.
Tell me any other reason for life than the taste of your lips?
I'm listening….
Spill the wine of your body into mine,
let it run like molten ruby between our shadows.
Each kiss an offering, each thrust a prayer,
our breath rising like incense from burning altars.
I want to be devoured slowly,
as figs split open beneath your touch
as honey drips from the comb into waiting mouths.
Take me where the jasmine hides its secrets,
where the nightingale forgets its songs.
Unveil me as the rose unveils at dawn,
each petal trembling, heavy with the wine of desire.
Let your hands wander like poets across my skin,
scriptures written in touch, verses etched in fire.
Feed me pomegranate seeds from your lips,
their juice staining the corners of my hunger.
Press me deeper into the silk of night,
where the scent of musk and saffron linger,
and time itself kneels at the altar of our breath.
Your gaze is the caravan I would follow into forever,
your kiss, the desert storm that strips me bare.
Every sigh between us is an empire falling,
every moan, a minaret rising to the heavens.
If love is a garden, then you are the gardener,
The fruit plucked when ripe the rose dewy scent breaking in the early morning sun.
Let the earth tremble beneath our rhythm,
let the heavens ache with envy.
And when dawn dares to pull us apart,
let your taste remain
the only scripture I need to remember.
~ Larson Langston
that if the stars for once could gaze upon us and make wishes on the sparks that flew from the choreographed carnal collision of our star bodies
Exploding through the cells of every fiber of flesh
our language of love being spoken in silence but singing between lips and longing.
To be lost and found and forgotten and witnessed under the very blanket of being that brought us to this world.
Tell me any other reason for life than the taste of your lips?
I'm listening….
Spill the wine of your body into mine,
let it run like molten ruby between our shadows.
Each kiss an offering, each thrust a prayer,
our breath rising like incense from burning altars.
I want to be devoured slowly,
as figs split open beneath your touch
as honey drips from the comb into waiting mouths.
Take me where the jasmine hides its secrets,
where the nightingale forgets its songs.
Unveil me as the rose unveils at dawn,
each petal trembling, heavy with the wine of desire.
Let your hands wander like poets across my skin,
scriptures written in touch, verses etched in fire.
Feed me pomegranate seeds from your lips,
their juice staining the corners of my hunger.
Press me deeper into the silk of night,
where the scent of musk and saffron linger,
and time itself kneels at the altar of our breath.
Your gaze is the caravan I would follow into forever,
your kiss, the desert storm that strips me bare.
Every sigh between us is an empire falling,
every moan, a minaret rising to the heavens.
If love is a garden, then you are the gardener,
The fruit plucked when ripe the rose dewy scent breaking in the early morning sun.
Let the earth tremble beneath our rhythm,
let the heavens ache with envy.
And when dawn dares to pull us apart,
let your taste remain
the only scripture I need to remember.
~ Larson Langston
