Come Again

Words instead of love -
ideas bent on flying from
reality in flesh and blood.
They form and drift and then
dissolve upon an errant wind.

Touch me not, they say, for
just one touch and I would
turn to fiery flames. Heated
now, the atmosphere is crying
out in agonies of steam.

Yet here, these words must
represent it all as if the travesty
of majesty did not exist in
time-based moments of the
purest bliss we'll ever come
to know and feel as real.

Oh, how those moments ran
and melted, one into another.
Peak by peak, we reached
a light that ever shone for us.
Undulating rhythm based on
sweet angelic hymns of harmony.

The ecstasy and agony are still
too much to bear. You run and
hide within the lower atmosphere,
as if you might, this once,
forget yourself.
Still, the sun is sinking o'er the
western mountain ridge.

And dreams of night
will always come again;
reaching for the center
of the heart...

? Michaelette ?

3/5/2002
Copyright© 2001 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home...