Together, We Are Poetry

We stayed in a little cozy cottage by the lake. It was one of those moments drenched with a fervent nostalgia like autumn’s kiss over fading skies. There was a throbbing pulse of freshness in the air and summer had welcomed us as a parched leaf needing rain. There was an undeniable longing in the air, and my body soaked with a yearning and an anticipation of slow-motion touches. Sunrise had already greeted us with a language of its own and it eased into our midst like silky jazz and blues at dawn. Daylight sprinkled a joy in my soul, swelling with the warm musk of his arousing scent. There was a graceful invitation from his eyes to surrender to the softness of his lips. The constancy of energy remained heavy all throughout our stay, an irresistible charm that bellowed as nectar and a bee. Before dusk, my immunity had collapsed beneath the tremble of his voice. My body was heavy with summer sighs, and he possessed the appetite to help me unload. His touch felt like Christmas morning and the smell of blueberry muffins and French wine. He had a melting forever touch, like cold pecan pie, chilling eggnog, and coconut fillings. We sat under the soft curtains of the night and with a melting gaze, he transcribed me like Arabian poetry. The undeniable spark had already been ignited and I was ready to risk it all with him. He had a savoring musk, an aroma that resembled the serenity of heaven’s gate. You know that flicker you feel when your heart is softening for another, like an invisible summer imbued with the glory of spring. A familiar feeling that was ripe with a yearning like warm whisky cozily lingering in your cheeks on Christmas eve. I eyed the endearing look he possessed, and immediately I knew that together we would make beautiful poetry.