|My newest adventure is underway. It has lead me to take up residency in a new blog,|
Like the Feathers of an Arrow (affectionately known as LFA).
...don't open...don't throw away... is not disappearing completely (not yet),
but postings here will be limited.
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
18 Last Call: Addiction
I place my hand upon your chest,
touch my own and magic. Pressure
within evaporates as our
rhythms sync. It is so easy
to lose myself in all we are.
I feel your eyes--that steady gaze--
skim across my everything and
I melt. Sensations strum throughout
harmonizing with the beat of
our hearts. I lose myself in us.
I breathe you in. Your essence runs
rampant--saturates my blood 'til
I'm flying high. You're my controlled
substance--always there to help me
escape. With you I lose myself.
I had the pleasure today of sitting through a two and a half hour training on gangs awareness. Along with learning way more than I ever wish I had to know about gangs, the presentation touched on narcotics. It was a very informative morning. -- So while I wrote half the first stanza prior to the training, the rest came afterwards. I guess the meeting stuck a bit too well in my subconscious.
A Structure Aside: I attempted a staggered meter for each stanza--iambic / trochee / iambic / trochee /iambic. There are a couple of iffy spots, but it was an interesting experiment.
The above poem was inspired by Three Word Wednesday [3WW=>beat, pressure, substance]. I you get a chance, check out what some wonderful writers were able to do with these three words.
This is my offerings for this week's dVerse Poets Pub OpenLinkNight. If you get a chance, check out all of the talented poets who have stepped up into the spotlight.