La Belle

I love your kiss, the one that steals away
My breath and drives me mad
Where eternity becomes an exhausted glass
Our bodies empty shells full of light

No phones, no friends, no fights
No obligations
No sounds, no sins, no lights
No destination

Sweet oblivion, all that we are is liquid
Hurled along spiraling tongues and pale skin
And the taste of your mouth, warm and fresh
Kissing you is like a vacation at the beach

Unfolded like collapsed sheets
All disclosed arms and palms and knees
Rounded snow banks of shoulders
Stretching forth down to the hips

No phones, no friends, no fights
No obligations
No sounds, no sins, no lights
No destination

Down to dreams of delicate skin
Gentle corners, long shapes folded
Into rolling curves, cups of light and shade
To trap our tenderness, to draw the night in.