beauty, love, poetry, sex, women

Palace

The time passes,

Each word built upon

The last, a finer world,

With all the best of the real,

Taken and even the worst

Refined and distilled

Treasures found,

The wounds mined for wisdom,

And you, in each line,

Impossible to capture

In your beautiful dichotomies,

But there is valour in the

Attempt.

My fingers dance across

The keys and find

Pieces of you in the palace,

Of my sense memories,

A call across time,

Across space

Until such time as you

Feel me,

A fur draped across your shoulders,

A fire built to keep you warm,

The primal poetry of

Affection

Offered without caveat.

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