Come To Me
Sweet sounds of summer slow subside
as poets wandering words remove
similes, soliloquies, all finally laid aside
words our truest feelings cannot prove.
Come to me. Lay your gentle heart to rest.
Come to me. Lie by me undressed.
I will touch the stillness of your soul,
become made whole.
When last line is written
and noble heart does quicken
passions’ crushing fire will consume.
Lay with trembling hands entwined,
released inside our every room,
become a light aligned return to womb.
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