Private Voice

Yours are the shadows that find my essence;
black wilderness breathing raw energy
through the rustling of my taffeta

where desire awaits,
where tears are kept.

Yours are the eyes alive within the night
taken to caress my cheek in darkness
where your trace across my breast

brings our love making;
begins our night's unmasking.

Your straightened lips hold tight
and do not speak of love

yet

they quiver with wet warmth
at the thought of losing it -
and I am the voice to kiss you;

to breathe care
though each membrane
as if it were my own.

Together, our shadows weep,
keeping private voice
through lover's gestures
kindled with hope's tender moments.




 Copyright © Pamela A. Lamppa
All Rights Reserved





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