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Memorabilia

Submitted by Kailashana2 on Fri, 2011-11-04 08:10

Your hands rough but tender
explore the spaces in between
alternate numbers,
you know, those memories of your
fingertips we never speak of,
breath is a divine instrument of torture
sometimes when it leaves you all alone,
I have loved often and many before,
but I could not have loved you more,
had I loved you any less
Gabriel's oboe summons us from our
missionary position, Adam and Eve
did not make love
did not know how to make war
behind closed doors
with memories of other lovers
passing through their experience.

Age bore no relationship
and words had no meaning.

Every step we take is green. Every touch
wounds us with its beauty.

Mortality. Only gods can dream.

Last few words:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZXPAhUIuKoI&feature=related Many poems have been written from the emotions evoked by Gabriel's Oboe. I've used the line "if I loved you more, I would have loved you less." which for me is penultimate, here, and in other poems, I've rearranged the words to give it a bit of different meaning.

Editing stage:

Editing - rough draft

Comments

Genuine Breath

Fri, 2011-11-04 09:44

Nicely penned.

~those memories of your
fingertips we never speak of~

^ I found those tender lines my favorite in this romantic verse, thank you for sharing, it's been a while and I'm glad this beauty was the first thing to read.

http://genuinebreath.yolasite.com/

Candlewitch

Fri, 2011-11-04 11:28