This Spell

My little hand traces,
your outer thigh.
Smooth and strong,
as you lie languidly.

Sated and surrendered,
sweat dampened hair ,
curls at your nape.
Stirred and snatched ,
by cooling breeze
.
Breath slows and muscles relax,
at peace after the storm.
The rise and fall of …a landscape,
for eyes to explore .
So poetic the undulating rhythm
it begs to be captured

My imagination picks up charcoal,stick,
and begins the elusive chase.
Even in such repose,
firm flesh displaces air.
Barely moving in sleep,
my artists eye takes in the scene.
.
Of mysterious hills and valleys,
where musky scent reminices exertions
recently spent.
Nurturing passion and spirit,
where the flow of two becomes one.

In seductive dance,
the charcoals trail.
Mimicks natures gesture,
on snowy white page.
If I could stir myself thus…
but thought is enough,
the drawing is done.

I will not break this spell of us.

This Spell

Redviolin

Joined November 2009

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desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

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