I want to pause
the caravan of my nights
at the river bend of your waist.
My hungry hands
exploring you
to read all the lost years.
When I kiss your pink lips
I want your body to
break forth into
a million cherry blossom flowers,
falling from trees..
The LAsT POSt BOX 
It’s so beautiful. There’s something very sensual, illusory and fragile about the shower of cherry blossom flowers. An unattainable blessing of some sort.
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Thank you Gabriela 🙂
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Ah! This is one sensual caravan, thank you so much for this! I think I may hear some Neruda in this one, yes?
And what will *you do, when your love’s petals grace your couch of kisses? ❤
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Neruda is love 🙂
and about what I shall do, well lets leave that for another poem 😀
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Cherry Blossom II – The Unveiling 🙂
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Reblogged this on A World Made Out of Stories and commented:
Just found this lovely blog – some beautiful, sensual poetry.
Enjoy!
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Thank you Michele for your generous praise 🙂
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