Like the pathless plight of a penguin, we were two souls meeting by chance.
You on a fishing boat. Me on the sand.
We danced under the twilight like cotton willows prancing in the wind.
Our hearts had only promises, no conditions.
We were like Rachmaninoff’s Vocalise.
Orchestrated a floral hymn in my heart.
Gave birth to the softness of my skin.
Had my tongue hoping for lessons.
Brought on a loss of sensation in my limbs.
I wanted to collect empty bottles at every store, as you smelled like a perseid of cherry blossom.
I embraced your lover’s mist and became the calmness to your storm.
We danced in the paradise of the soulful and our love burgeoned like the union of a rose and its scent.
Our thrusting lips canoodled.
We had ‘Love Story’ in my bed.
Your breath, an irreplaceable breeze.
Every sweat drop became a privilege.
Then the sea called you back to her, and my ebony eyes burned angel soft forlorn vapors and tears soaked my satin red dress.
I longed for your slothful talking kiss that was like a diamond to my waterfall soliloquy.
I am now dribbling widowed art.
“Lonely in Love”
A corpse flower
On blue bayou
Copyright © 2017 Angela Marie Suor