When he knocks,
My doors open
And I let him inside
For I am alive
By the power
Of his breath
That inhales
And exhales
In tune with mine
He kisses me,
Yet he has no lips
He fondles me,
Gripping me tightly
Yet he has no hands
Beauty redefined
His distinct touch
Ferries his intent to me
If I sleep, he woos me
Should the blaze of passion strikes
And revels in gregariousness
When I rise
And yes, I rise
And yes, I crumble
And yes, I rise
And yes, I crumble
I know him deeply,
Just as
He knows me deeply
From his many visit
To my halls
Until I’m done away
In colorific splendor
But he knows how to mend
when I falter
For with a gentle kiss
My doors open again
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National Poetry Month Day 9
You are on such a sizzle roll lately!
Aha!!!! love the knock at the door and the versatilitay of Richard. Fantastic take on whatcan sometimes be called ordinary.