La petite mort

In the night I wake and gaze upon the the lines our body creates..
The gentle curve of your lips the roll of your hips…
As I dream of the places they’ve been.
The subtle sighs and and shaking thighs….
As the salt of your body drips from my lips..
La petite mort over and over as the sun slips away
and our friend the moon guides my hands across
the landscape before me…
Each valley explored each hill climbed and hundred times.
The wet of your want mixed with the length of my
desire a perfect match indeed.
A compliment of passions designed only at heavens gate
this fallen angel has found his way home….




About prewitt1970

Born in a vineyard in 1970, napa valley to be exact. Published Poet, International Artist, Cancer survivor and Advocate for young onset Parkinson's disease. "Be brave, Be bold and thrive in the life you have." c.2012
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9 Responses to La petite mort

  1. debradml says:

    Dearest B… wow… stunning… captured an essence so pure, I love! xox

  2. Drea says:

    The passion is simply exquisite, Ben. I Love this piece!

  3. Liege Blaidd Du, This piece is beautifully evocative. Your words leave me breathless…

  4. I love this so *sigh* I could get lost in the visceral imagery. ~d

  5. Mr. B, you do have a way with words xx

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