Her breath alive;
The game begins,
a diamond sets,
she is but a kiss upon perfection.
I ask what god makes a creature upon whom angels envy.
Arise my pulse
To coach a man, and moan at his hopelessness
Across a mellow breath of wine.
I knew; I sensed, without her not.
And easing loose a clasp of lace
The game is set, the noose tightens
Another sign of her relenting
Wilds the play of eyes, the wanting her.
But a sin, lesser
And so to hedge my move upon the cue; the cry of deep anticipation, I wait for her, Arrived, emotion raw.
If that is your immediate aim I am your tool.
You’ll be sucked out of my life with a hover.
A poem and a half
Yet deserve but desire more than quaint
Till time ends I wait
Value your company tis but bliss
To know now, to late
But what sweet memories of ages past
That I call Nora, by any other name would smell as sweet?
Ask not! be at peace, good man! For she is justified in herself.
Her breath live; The game has began, a diamond has a rose, she is kiss upon perfection.
ask not what god could make a creature upon whom angels envy.
But what maketh her smile with joy
When pondering one such as Nora. When pondering pure kamā of your aura