If This Was the Last
Your ebony hair curled and cascaded untamed,
some swirled in the stream of craving squall,
some laced the lilting lattice of lust
on your forehead of ivory canvas,
engraving the contours of the evanescent charisma.
I wondered if this was your last image,
I would glimpse flicker in the wind to fade in oblivion,
if there was no tomorrow.
Your almond eyes of the azure sea waltzed
to the melodic waves of fervent music,
the eyelids danced with the flutter of butterfly,
floating in the air of yearning on charming wings,
weaving the wondrous fabric of trance.
I wondered if this was your last dream,
I would deem drift away in the wind to wilderness,
if there was no tomorrow.
Your crimson cheeks soaked to shine
the patina of the blooming rose I adored,
spreading seductive scent in the beguiled breeze,
with the touch of my desire caressing your face,
rippling with rapturous hues of glowing glamour.
I wondered if this was your last portrait,
in the twilight hour I would see it glow,
if there was no tomorrow.
The buds of rose bloomed on your luscious lips,
swathed in the lilac luster of the sunburst dawn,
the attractive allure glinted with gorgeous glow
like pearls of dew on pristine petals of pink rose,
shining like a star in the sequined sky.
I wondered if this was your last smile,
I would sense in my memory the stardust stow,
if there was no tomorrow.
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