You are my walking shadow,
My running angel in the meadow,
Our hearts racing as you stare,
When you realise they really are a matching pair,
As your eyes peel away my screen,
Ready to indulge me as you interrupt my scene,
I lick my fruitful lips, ripening like a summer tomato,
Calling my name in such tempestuous staccato,
Leaning in as the dying sun sets gracefully,
Let the darkness be the yearned-for awakening.
Thursday 1 April 2010
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