The Kiss, 1907 by Gustav Klimt
f e e l me
like sonnets of sunrise
infused with
clementine cadence
as I am the golden essence
in your floral skyline
a hazel rose
quenched amidst the quiescence
of dulcet devotion
s t i
r r
i n
g me to an
ardent realm
of singing solstice,
for in citrine warmth
of your poignant passion
laced with
perennial promises
I’m shaped
and crowned with
mosaic sakura,
robed in
fervent f l
a r
e
s
as your touch
i l l u
m i n a
t e s
the blushing blurs
of dawning desires
r u
s h i n
g
beneath
mellifluous meadows
of my
lovestruck skin
so k i s s me like
the sun after
crimson rain~
wrap me in
sage and sandalwood;
be the aroma
r i s i n g from
blades of emeralds
where soul sees no
crestfallen crystals
and heart tastes not
love’s
lament…
in silence, you are
the bronze backdrop
glazed in
cues of compassion
i g n i t i n g
Juliet’s nightfall
with poetry
and petals
a reflection
of timeless twin flames
entwined
in
forget-me-nots
while I stay ~ intoxicated
by the intricate
lips of longing ~
a lethargic silhouette
that sighs ~ tied in stillness ~
p u
l s
e
within the portrait
of pining
p a r a d i s e...
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