Strokes of Ardor

Moving alone in the pastel darkness, they shake,
Reveling in their fortune, breath becoming weak,
Unspeakably knowing, this was the end of heartache.

Colors melt together with each pressing of lips,
While the love on his hands finds its sure way
Through her lustrous hair, right down to her hips.

Her soft satin dress matches her sweet rosy cheeks,
Flushed by the reality of desires now met.
Quietly she coos as she learns loves technique.

Hearts beat in syncopation, thoughts lead astray,
Two souls receiving what they set out to take,
Dreams and reality set in perfect array.

Time stands still, branding this moment in history.
Life makes little sense, but love -- is a mystery.

November 11th 2008
(c) Novalyn Grace RRL

[For an image contest : http://faqsmedia.ign.com/faqs/image/article/777/777420/wotw_vhayste_002.jpg]