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
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