The coil of us

When I hold your body close
And bury my head into your hair
There’s nothing quite as simple as
The coil of us

When I reach out in the night
And listen to your breath
There’s nothing as beautiful as
The coil of us

Waiting to spring into loving passion
Our bodies warm and locked in the curl of love
We slumber with my arm held firm under your cool pillow
My hand finding it’s natural resting place on your body
Sometimes your thigh
Most times your soft curves

The coil of us waits
Ready to spring
Against that
Which would tear us apart

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This entry was posted in Poetry.

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