Touch of the Dragon
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The dragon’s kitchen, ancient spices full
I choose food, you teaching me.
Without notice, your touch slides down my back.
Delicate, barely a touch — more your fingers verse.
Which says — honey, I’m hungry for your lips.
In the calm of the day on the castle wall
The golden dragon landed
This image is your true nature.
*
Under the snowy mountains,
who takes and gives lives by a marvelous nature of her own.
Made of eternal oak wood and volcanic stone.
I was created for you — to your liking.
To be your water cradle.
My chest to be your headboard.
*
You were made for me.
From the gentle birch
and elegant cherry.
In a silver cradle surrounded by flowers.
And with the dragon’s heart to be my soul guardian.
*
Our nest in the stone chamber.
Drums of fire from underground.
Passion music carries our bodies.
I fly with a dragon because our bodies are one.
Everything is open and flowing naturally.
Thought, speech, touch, sigh, the cry of love.
*
In the timeless green of your eye
I lose myself; I feel your touch down my back again.
Barely a touch — it’s more a bite of passion.
I see a flower garden planted on the Island of Love.
All created out of our sighs.
When I leave this world
I’ll take just a picture of your touch.
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Copyright © Maximilian G. Wolf | Year Posted 2025
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