It is in between lost moments of hazy thought
That tender whispers embrace delicate flow
Beneath a canopy of lost hope and jasmine scent
Encompassing all I know.
Gingerly lacing love with lust, flames burning
Igniting ancient needs in ceremonies of soul appease
Neath blackness of pearlescent kisses and forever voids
Skies of truth, skies of love, skies of lust.
Karen Hayward ©2018
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