The Efflorescence of a Half Moon Love

The Efflorescence of a Half-Moon Love An immutable desire to awaken and experience the night’s breath… Where saddened petals elate at the ability to whisper open at the cusp of dawn. I reach to orbit near you: where carnal might kiss deity, and the air between us smells of divine pollen. A heavenly flower exhaling eternity from the soft rupture of its earth-planted soul. Here, a tender blossom awakens… A novice stemming at the hem of your touch. Moments sway where your lips, rouge and lunar-fervent, graze like mist against my skin. Hands scented with dusk and velvet— their grace a hymn I could only cradle, never hold. This comfort of a half-moon love: crooked and Prussian-blue, casts its crescent smile through gardens that unfold, but are never perennial. Night blooms unfurl from the curl of her lips, and stars smolder in his gaze— watching her become: a blossom too bright to own. Efflorescence… fleeting and divine, begins in courage. Her half-lit smile lifts you into impossible cosmos, each breath perfumed with the myth of closeness. Then, at culmination, full moon lips meet the bud of the soul’s voice, though a kiss never meant to stay. And when she summons you to her Narcissus bloom, with that lunar, crooked smile, your tongue is silenced. She composts your now weedend soul with lycorine, leaving you… midway to twilight , forever in orbit- as she moonsets.