The heartstrings


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Old memories become sweet dreams in old age.

Old memories become sweet dreams in old age.

The heartstrings

She poured the sweet red wine into her Grandparent borrowed wine glasses
with soft and tender hands. Her eyes of river blue looked into my eyes.
He knew she was playing him like a violin. Her gentle and sweet voice create music for his heart.
She caressed the heartstrings skillfully making years of disappointment to fade away.

She whispered today we will love like our first day, last night to know love.
Allow the tender embraces of comfort to  become yearning, to expand to the freedom
of heart and mind to run wild.

She disrobed and moved to the words of Leonard Cohen song “A thousand kisses deep.”
She whispered to the night. “I wanted to be a dancer, I wanted to be the Poet who whispered
words of love to the lonely world.”  I watched her perfect body moving to the words of Cohen.

She came to me whispering softly and sweetly. “The ritual of love can be dark and deep. Long
sweet kisses can lead to the dangerous dances of no return. The want and need will rise up
in us create a fire that need gentle touch leading to rising flames needing to  know the frenzy
of uncontrolled passion.

There is no truce in the hunger of the body. When we open the new doors. We must
consummate till we fall from weariness or the morning light.

She stood-up and I admired her perfect body moving to Leonard Cohen song “Suzanne”.
She came to me slowly stripping  my clothing off. She said “Passion is simple Johnnie. Soft
touch opening the heat of need and two people becoming one. We will go slow and easy.
We have expensive lotion, locked doors and the night is young. You are mine and I’m yours.

She sealed her words with a tender kiss.

Coyote/John Castellenas

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