The harrow is <br />Upon the very moon-kissed floor. <br />The dreams wane <br />Over the sweet caprice <br />And subtle breaths. <br /> <br />I appeal to you <br />Like your quaint dress. <br />An automatic fire <br />As you bite your lips. <br /> <br />You leave ashen-plumes <br />Upon my blithe skin. <br />The motion of the <br />Burning clocks <br />And the utterances <br />Of your gardens <br />With flowers that long to pry <br />Descend upon me <br />Like sapid waves <br />That twirl in a crazed fume. <br /> <br />The kisses dive <br />Into distances like <br />Daggers hurled into <br />The black, crystalline waters <br />Of your sea - <br />I’ve come to the <br />Place where the Sunlight <br />Meets the anxiously <br />Anticipating mellow grounds <br />That are impugn <br />To this riotous rally. <br /> <br />I will steal all of your <br />Sophistications <br />And lattice them <br />To the liaisons of <br />The moon-kissed ground <br />And the sun-flamed azure. <br /> <br />All of you <br />All of me <br />This exhilarating union <br />Will steal <br />All of you, <br />All of me.<br /><br />Windsor Guadalupe Jr<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/all-of-you-8/
