élan

constellations float in the dark,
underlining your face,
italicizing your eyelashes
with their lights beaming
through the leaves,
bowing down
to the gravity
that pulls my lips to trace
the rubious threshold
that exhales the whisperings
of your aching anima—
transcending science,
from physical to the metaphysical,
to the cosmic pursuits
of our paphian gestures
and gung-ho kisses,
breaking the fourth wall
of our phantasmagoric overtures.



xtopherdelax 2011