The voice coming across the seas,
He could smell the aroma of thick passion,
In a gentle air.
Strings of music play melodies foreign to the heart,
Each pull of words string,
Stroke the heart softly.
Thoughts blossoming into words,
That lick the ink of pens,
Making the heart melt for a touch of the ink's mistress.
Heart played against heart,
Passion or lust?
Love or awe?
Of desires that strange dreams give.
Melody Kuku
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/strange-love-10/
