Seventhy-ninth say

`Our Passion`

Down on the top
of the mountain of love
around the air we
lie in tonight
your breath, my breath

Ice as warm as trust
consumed by our mouths
spoiled on your chest
melted by your
cold heat, my heat

Rain on a dry day
empty of boldness
transparent fear, to fall
on top of you
I fall, you fall

Knowledge of passion
like motion of statues
You won’t move, I won’t know
Your passion, my passion
Our Passion

 – Anne’s says

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Filed under Poems, Selfwritten

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