Cashmere…

It’s memories
such as these
of smell and color
a palette of warm experience
textures felt with the brain
emotions flaring like a steam engine
the gauge needle pinned to the red
pressure dictates movement
her muscles contract
raising her arms
to pull her breastplate
woven from fabrics of ancient desert lands
up and over her playful smile
in the space of a single heartbeat
I wait an eternity to be rejoined
with her lips
concealed as they are
by that which
once discarded
will only bring more of her
in contact with me
she flings the offending garment
across the room
the leader of a rebellion
throwing down the flag
of the ousted government
and now I will ride an avalanche
of her hair and skin
down the mountainside of our desire
to lie at the bottom
in a tangled mass
buried alive under the weight
of her love

About Eric

Writer/Plumber/Poet/Father/Gentleman/Romantic
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12 Responses to Cashmere…

  1. This is wonderfully penned. 💖

  2. AJ.Dixon says:

    “The leader of the rebellion/throwing down the flag/of the ousted government…” Brilliant metaphor! Determined yet playful, I really like it. Great stuff!

  3. I really just kind of want to sigh now.

  4. augustmacgregor says:

    You combined sensual descriptions with analogies that are unexpected and grab attention — a fantastic job on this one!

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