Red in a Velvet Room
Intensly intimate, it tip toes through my nostrils
Sneaking silently to the velvet rooms concealed in my mind,
Where her memory decorates the essence of the air itself.
With a soft rapping on a gentle door, it arrives
Not needing to knock; nor requiring entrance devices,
It enters, immediately accessing an once unawareness
That reanimates smiling memories laced in soft secrets.

As its presence intensifies; so do the private memories
Shared by secret's scorn and pleasure's primal powers.
She smiles knowing that it has returned me to our room
Where no thieves may steal any luxuries left by love's labor.
Laced in the intimacy of nakedness, she rises to please me,
Two now one; it weaves us together; flies helpless in a web.

It belongs to her like orange on a full moon rising
Like water wet sweat aimlessly wandering on spent lovers
Exhausted from passion; like the light exhausted at days end
Like discontent reality peeled from mouth-watering memories.
Bursting with juices like a ripe naked orange awaiting devouring
It is hers; so am I; and they are my delicious sweet secrets
Like sweet hidden fruits in a desolate land famine framed.

Such is its power to transport my mind, busy or idle
Helplessly to a velvet room concealed by black temples.
Locked beneath eyes that do not say, nor lips speak
Of memories; like morsals sugar sweet, melting my mind
Dissolving away to a sweet sanctum below surfaces seen.
It is a fragrance that she wears to accent her nudity
It is called 'Red' like the invisible fire in my velvet heart.

By maximusdoom

© 2004 maximusdoom (All rights reserved)


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