He had a kind face
But his soft tired eyes
Told a different story
A story she was familiar with
Whenever her eyes met his
She saw what they so playfully hid
A tempest so darkly menacing
Resembling her own blustery nights

But there was no walking away
He was so sweet to taste
His embrace strong and gentle
A blanket no one could shake
She could feel safe there
She could feel her walls
Slowly melting away

There was something strong
Brewing under their breaths
Their burning fingers
Were writing on each other’s skin
A poetry with every touch
His chest so cold, his heart so warm
kiss so heady, he was like a fine whisky
So she put the bottle to her mouth
poured him in and gulped him down
Bottoms up

Now he is running through her veins
Blended with her blood
Pumping through her wounded heart
He will either kill it or cure it
Time will tell
The end or eternity
Of their unfinished tale
Complete obliteration or devine salvation
This time, there is no in between



Photographer Unknown
Poetry © Copyright 2016, Opinionated Head