Painting in Wintertime (standard:poetry, 105 words)
Author: KShaw	Added: Mar 03 2005	Views/Reads: 3078/0	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Just a rapture

Traversing the hills and the gullies of your body, listening for the
thunder of eyelashes, I immerse myself in shoulder smells and forget 
what it is I came for. 

Such words, I thought, could become a poem, a painting, a song,
accompanied by a continual desire to cry. But the sun awakens, shining 
on hope, inducing deliriums of sweet indolence. The fermentations of 
shadows and the ancient curves record the lifelong caress on innocence, 
surging and dying away with each kiss. 

The stars have wept rose colours, the viridian seas swell no more, and
cold winds assault pale skies. It is a painting in wintertime. 


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