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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Romance/Love · #1441772
A metaphor for making love, the first time.
Lost
in your landscape

slowed
apace with your shape

coiled in your hair
wound at your side
toiled in your curls
found in your eyes

a sailor's dream
a journey's end

looklistenlearn
there's geography
here's history

sea's gentle resistance
moon's easy sway
ceaseless insistence
making headway

sense time
mind done
sun shine

two sides now
each by each
waves at the prow
head for the beach

oars at the ready
steady arms row
smell, salt and heady
course, who can know

lunging through waters
skim askew waves

soul cry
sculling cove
landed
to lay
on your shore.
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