Pleasures sometimes, and only sometimes,
Stifle themselves,
Upon our walks through boarded passageways and times alone,
When we may see the shores with its naked sands,
Fused like longing upon longing.
What will the seas become, without the sands beneath?
As scarlet as your lips,
We are lone with only our shadows
Among depravity.
We dwell, in faraway eyes, over those oceans, and their glittering selves;
We dwell, in escapes on our own minds, to those little pleasures,
With hands of mine beneath the silk of your dress,
And upon the little cushion of your fair bottom.
I am upon your eyes, with heat in my mind,
For I have forged a woman out of my entire rib-cage,
Blended into the sand, that is your skin,
Raw with the coloring of beige, blossoming in the hues of pink,
And I will kiss the lips,
To next, kiss the cheeks that are reddened,
To next, caress the tresses of yours that are bleak
In their own color.
For what beauty you possess, for me to admire.
With choice to each thing for my desire,
And I’ll become enveloped in your sweet stare.
I’ll caress, as well,
Your thighs.
And lift with my kisses, to new heights,
The love we’ll both cherish,
Among the fragrant meadows, and the fragrant petals,
We’ll dance, in arms, through and through,
Instead of this barren walkway,
Where only a ghost follows me home,
Where only my mind is nestled in its shadows of memory.
Modern Romanticism 