The creases on the paper, from reading too much,
From hands running over the familiar slant of letters.
A night by the window, remembering and reading,
Feverish declarations of love in black ink;
A date and time as post-script, six hours away.
From hands running over the familiar slant of letters.
A night by the window, remembering and reading,
Feverish declarations of love in black ink;
A date and time as post-script, six hours away.
Crimson suffused indigo skies, the soft twilight of winter;
A dark silhouette languidly walks the empty streets.
Heart aflutter! The face in the window, aglow!
Frenzied fingers tame hair and lips redden in anticipation;
A hurried flight down creaky stairs, as the world sleeps.
Cocooned in an embrace, drunk on unspoken promises,
The joy of knowing that he chose her and she chose him.
A wave of shyness as eyes meet, lower and look again;
Yellow light floods the young faces, breath fogs up,
And fingers entwine around the corner lamp post.
Cocooned in an embrace, drunk on unspoken promises,
The joy of knowing that he chose her and she chose him.
A wave of shyness as eyes meet, lower and look again;
Yellow light floods the young faces, breath fogs up,
And fingers entwine around the corner lamp post.
(Photo courtesy: http://www.paragonfineart.com/artists/rob-kaz.html)
