You speak to me my darling
in many different tongues
in lofty words and lullabies
and babbles of the young.

Your voice rises slightly
then soften as it falls
it fills me up with pleasure
the kind I can’t recall.

Your whispers and your moans
the silence and the yearn
intertwine with mine
with passion to return.

You weave our thoughts my darling,
to blend our finest cords
with melodies that rhyme
to flutes and harpsichord.

©Yakira Shimoni Fulks
December 12, 1998 | Graymoor, IL

Dr. Project Point Blank ~ A Song For V.| Words