|the gloaming hour
Author: glimpses from an ivory tower PM
lips, drenched with want and wild roses, ask me to paint the dusk with words, and how can I refuse her? part of june's creative odyssey.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance - Words: 126 - Reviews: 1 - Published: 06-24-10 - Status: Complete - id: 2821205
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the gloaming hour
lying under a sugar sky,
she lets the champagne burn her throat.
lips, drenched with want and wild roses,
ask me to paint the dusk with words,
but for once, I do not care what
the hot-eyed moon or cicadas
might be saying. the space between
her smile and mine is thinner than
a whisper, almost vanishing
in the twilight. at last, after
a hush has crept over the field,
I say: the deaf world sleeps tonight,
never knowing you are a god
of evening flowers and always,
how the song of your bones wakes me
at midnight, calling to my own.
a/n: and I believe that if she tried, her eyes could halt the sun from sinking. june 23, 2010.