Enchanted Instant

He approaches like a fresh pink morning,

         dew on his tongue, and honeydew lips

                 ripe with lustrous wonder.

 

I melt like an apparition in purgatory

                 unable to stumble into subsistence,

         his brawn desecrating me, searing me,

                 and breaking barriers 

                        between flesh and blood.

 

His touch fuels a debate

                 of torrid anecdotes,

        whose ardor has pearly essence

        to hush braggarts and thieves

                        into submission.

 

Still, I covet his candied caress,

        once again when the moon

                crashes the ebony sky,

                        before the cicadas hum.




And listen to my recording of it from SoundCloud:

http://soundcloud.com/michael-wayne-holland/enchanted-instant-2?utm_campaign=timeline&utm_content=http%3A%2F%2Fsoundcloud.com%2Fmichael-wayne-holland%2Fenchanted-instant-2&utm_medium=facebook&utm_source=soundcloud#_=_