Porcelain Dream

A smooth sensation works through my bones,
as the scent of lavender tickles up my noes
and settles into the very heart of me. The touch
of her fingers penetrate and delight, as we
collide with one another, motionless, and serene.
She shutters, and moves across the room on air
hovering over my eyes like a porcelain dream.
The air leaves the room, time has halted, or vanished
into another dimension leaving only us, my porcelain
dream.

I find no inch of comfort from the anxiety
that her presence brings, but comfort is replaced
by an exhilaration of touch and sound, the moist
ruby purse of her lips that slide across mine as I
draw her near me. My hands tremble down her swaying spine across
her silk hair that tickle my shoulders.
She can't be real, she can't be here, not with me,
not this porcelain dream. But as we slide and
shift across one another I block out all the rest, all the
trepidations of incalculable insecurities and
trap my mind inside this moment, this second that
I lie with her. She fills every inch of me, as I breath
I'm entranced by every drop of her. As I close my eyes
I can only think of one thing, my one and only
porcelain dream.

J.L. Copeland