These are your hands, soft lips of dream; the time is free to stay.
You are my killing-heart-appeal and I'm a deadly play.
We are transforming all the words into a vibrant touch.
I simplified it to the rhymes, and to their longing clutch.
The gladness finally revealed, unveils the patient calm.
And soon we'll wish to buy a gasp, surrender all the realms:
the land of lipstick, mascara, the castles and the wells.
No wonder that the lingerie is lighter than my spells.
The dress codes changed and lines of verse are captured butterflies.
I read the moonlight on your breast; my tongue paints swirly skies.
The moment comes, the moment waits, and heavens tend to grow.
The spring of life is pulsing springs, and seeds of love we sow.
March 30, 2007
Iouri Lazirko
Copyright ©2007 Iouri Lazirko