Our Golden Veil
She moves to kiss me from above,
her body over mine,
moves to brush back her hair,
to keep it from my face,
when,
stopping her hand I draw her closer,
and, nearing me,
her hair falls around my head.
A curtain, golden, for us,
just her and me,
intensifying intimacy,
and concealing us,
just her and me,
in a golden dusk
that, as it closes,
disregards all the world,
but her and me.
Her eyes,
her lips,
her breath,
her mouth.
And me.
Copyright © Red Omara | Year Posted 2013
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