Chaise

I know that we are strangers But I'd like to see your face There's something so familiar About the way you turn in haste... In golden strap tied sandals That come right below your calf Beholding to the candles As it splits the flames in half.... Against the blackest marble That is darker than it's glare Like the moon in Autumn As it penetrates each layer... That is falling off your body As you turn toward the wall On that Italian leather That I know will break your fall... But you remain a mystery Till I become that chaise To hold you in a tryst to be So I can take it's place... Terry WWW.WhiteLionPoetry.com