Rain in the lovers
The beat becomes one with the
movement of the flame in the wind.
The smell is that of a freshly
cut rose from one lover to the other.
It all becomes so intimate,
the sound, the look, the smell.
Lovers clinging in the dark,
raindrops on the leaves.
Tender kisses all night long,
the music of the rain.
Beads of sweat on naked flesh,
the smell of a rose.
Night and day coincide in the thunder,
the flashing of light.
The rain is gone,
the passion remains.
The movement is strong,
the beat fades away.
the rose dies,
the smell clings to the sheets.
Love and lust stay alive as the clouds
descend to bring forth another day.
Lovers crawl closer,
only to fade away with the coming of the light.
 |
 |
 |