Array ( [sid] => 143619 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => making love [time] => 2008-07-01 12:29:30 [hometext] => [bodytext] =>

Let our bodies be one, if only for a moment
or a moment’s moment: brief like a bomb bursting or babies
being born – like everything being born.
Let us marry our impermanent flesh
and hearts that pump blood, not sonnets.
Let the rhythm of our pulses conduct an orchestra of movement;
play
My body, My musician, with your melodic hands
until the magnificent song of our sensations
is nothing less than a symphony.
Let our limbs and lips fool us into thinking
– for a moment’s moment – that we are not
alone.
And then, soon as it all began, let the resolution remind us
how imperfect this all is.
[comments] => 3 [counter] => 172 [topic] => 22 [informant] => lostonlyforalittlewhile [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => LostLove ) Your Poetry Dot Com - making love


making love
Date: Tuesday, 1st July 2008 @ 12:29:30 PM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry


Contributed By: lostonlyforalittlewhile


Let our bodies be one, if only for a moment
or a moment’s moment: brief like a bomb bursting or babies
being born – like everything being born.
Let us marry our impermanent flesh
and hearts that pump blood, not sonnets.
Let the rhythm of our pulses conduct an orchestra of movement;
play
My body, My musician, with your melodic hands
until the magnificent song of our sensations
is nothing less than a symphony.
Let our limbs and lips fool us into thinking
– for a moment’s moment – that we are not
alone.
And then, soon as it all began, let the resolution remind us
how imperfect this all is.


This poem is Copyright © lostonlyforalittlewhile



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