Beneath the night fire

I feel your lips whisper

They speak of a life; a love

undying and molten

beneath your breast.

A sharpened edge of silver liquid

burns deep in my throat

as I drink in your essence.

The scent of your being

brands desire on my heart.

We sit silently beneath the dark swaying trees,

the birds cooing softly their song for our love.

Our skin melts against one another,

as we breathe the night.

And the evening closes around us,

keeping us safe within its grasp.

© 2009

Seriously, sometimes the tequila really makes you ponder life’s deeper emotions.  And, often, there is nothing like poetry to examine and extrude that deep feeling which cannot be expressed.  I suppose that a drunken poem seems less than a poem written without outside influence, but it is no less meaningful or filled with desire.  Find that person which is your true love, your most desired, and bestow upon them that which no one can take from you.

See you in the funny papers!

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