love was once like the blue foxwho ate the stars to curl into a little balland enchant us no longer do lips only kiss – they prophesymy destiny across your skin when you hear the thunders you remember meand think i was the storm toothen, nowmy heart is on fire the day...
i want to marry you in blue blue,as moon waterin a clay cobalt cupas tendernessand passionin blue seaswith salts and stars on our skinsi want to marry youand when i say marry i mean our lipsto mergeinto a kiss, a vow,an oathand your eyes taking me inand your handsour...
“Positano bites deep. It is a dream place that isn’t quite real when you are there and becomes beckoningly real after you have gone.” ~ John Steinbeck The Beloved’s Wrist Love is a kiss on the wrist. There is a certain level of vulnerability in...
