Divine, this fire of desire
burning through my flesh.
Is it heavenís bliss,
or might it be
the ever-living flames of hell,
returned to burn in me?
The bride descends from up
Moist, the satin lips of flowers opening,
dew covering the walls of her exposure;
just as the groom moves to ascent
all in one movement of eternity,
when love is born within reality...
? Michaelette ?
Copyright© 2001 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home...