My Dream Feels
If it weren't for that perfect fit
breasts to my chest;
if it weren't for those perfect lips
mine to yours
I'd not be so in love with you.
If it weren't for your flower-petal voice
those summer breeze yearning eyes
my summer heart
would not have blossomed so.
Absent my throbbing center
and yours matching
we'd not have sailed
to ectacy's edge
but we did;
such that without even touching
we evinced
these and more.
So speak to me in my Bed's Night
imagination plumb
and remembering
fantasy blended
till
there is no separating
dreams and the real
and this is perfection's tip
penetrating
Breathing me and I you
lungs filled with
that that perfect mix
estacy
remembering
and dreaming you
is all any person needs
because bodies
make no subtle
distinctions
between dreams and the real
in the three am hours.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Added by Poetry Lover
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