Moonlit granite spaces called your arms.
Brazen hearts and stonecrafted features softened by life.
Sculpted melodies and heartstrings guided by your hands.
Gentle emotions transforming themselves into silent sonnets.
Your iridescent gaze set to evanescent words and forgotten whispers of our dreams.
Black and white musical notes framed by scattered ripples of familiar titles.
Black and white notes, which when played along with our mortal desires, became rich, burgundy blood covered hearts,
azure skies, sparkling reticent stars, courageous, passionate horizons, and midnight ivory moons.
Distant heavenly orbs that were as vibrant as the dormant desires that lay within our well rehearsed departures.
Tempered, molded, chiseled stones, that transformed themselves into granite blocks of well performed artistic slumber,
with the cool stones repeating note upon note, unto their cold alabaster flesh.
Conceptualized our hearts, our passionate embraces and gentle rapture, with this sacred act gracefully blessed by your hands and lips.
All of the moments spent within your arms, reminded me always, of a cool breeze against my face, with your feelings methodically leaving me, much like the hauntingly expiring hours do each day to every life that they caress.
Over the course of my meandering thru time, I will fervently recall within the still silence of my heart, your gentle breathing against my hands like an April breeze at midnight caressing the still countryside at will.
I will recall our first embrace and the newly born light of optimism that briefly accompanied our lives.
I will then fly away to dream again.
To dream of a world newly cleansed by a thunderstorm at dawn, with the blanket of my memories,
all bundled underneath the cinnamon and jasmine scented canopy called you.