Existential Crisis

Slowly the arm of Winter creeps
along the grass, the frosted flowers
shivering in the chill before
the powdered coloured dawn.
The trees begin to dance, their
bareness showing their beauty
as the leaves applaud from the ground.
The season on display, lights
entwining needle-filled branches
as red berries dot their bows.
The world rushing into darkness
as if it is seeking the twinkling
brightness the obsidian sky brings—
and I, I search for mistletoe
and December roses so I can feel
secure in the knowledge
I am still your blossom.

~ Valentyna Holloway

Do Not Reproduce Poetry In Whole Or In Part Without Permission

© @ValentyneDreams — Valentyna Holloway 2016

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This Is The After Of Our Before

Soft kisses drawn across still quaking
flesh, heartbeats tangled in the subsiding
pulse of passion.
(closer)
This is the after of our before.

Hands slipping together, fingertips mingling like
salt water and the shore as the slowing waves
bring murmured declarations of love.
(inhale)
This is the after of our before.

Legs slowly moving, hips merged rising
and falling in the quivering dance as the
thrum of the storm turns to peaceful calm.
(exhale)
This is the after of our before.

Breathing deeply in the contentment
of satiated desire, your name purrs
off of my lips as I feel your smile.
(elysium)
This is the after of our before.

  • Valentyna Holloway

The Ripped Notebook Series ©

 

this-is-the-after-of-our-before

Do Not Reproduce In Whole Or In Part Without Permission
© @ValentyneDreams — Valentyna Holloway 2016

The Ripped Notebook Series ©  Valentyna Holloway