Lover's Spit
The bedframe shook like thunder,
atop the clothing strewn floor.
The covers they pitched like monstrous waves,
above a sea of sheets all torn.
The breaths they exhaled in torrents,
the fan was whirling violently in the breeze.
The tornado moans, how they tried, oh they tried!
Just couldn't beckon us off our knees.
Two masts of flesh ride the waves,
their limbs bind them like roots born unto soil.
fervently they beg the winds to punish them,
to see for how long they can toil.
Only can the sight of a calm sky, be this perfect storms spoil.
The storm now reaching it's peak, sends the chorus of breathing to a shriek.
The masts go flailing, white knuckles grasp the railing...
what glorious destruction this storm does wreak!
The ship finally gives way to the spring of a leak.
(oh what a glorious leak!)
The waves they start to quiet.
Out from under the clouds, the sun has started to peek.
The two breaths lose their power, not a word do they utter, nor a sound do they speak.
The birds take place of the moans with a soothing sort of cheep,
as the thumping of two hearts grows steady, and the lions once more are the sheep,
Across sweaty faces, yawns cling to lips.
limbs intertwined are heaving, but still firmly to each other they grip.
Tiredly we fall into the sea of sheets, for a most refreshing dip.
As eyelids close and laboured breaths make steady to doze,
We are cradled to sleep surrounded by the flawless rubble that is our ship.
atop the clothing strewn floor.
The covers they pitched like monstrous waves,
above a sea of sheets all torn.
The breaths they exhaled in torrents,
the fan was whirling violently in the breeze.
The tornado moans, how they tried, oh they tried!
Just couldn't beckon us off our knees.
Two masts of flesh ride the waves,
their limbs bind them like roots born unto soil.
fervently they beg the winds to punish them,
to see for how long they can toil.
Only can the sight of a calm sky, be this perfect storms spoil.
The storm now reaching it's peak, sends the chorus of breathing to a shriek.
The masts go flailing, white knuckles grasp the railing...
what glorious destruction this storm does wreak!
The ship finally gives way to the spring of a leak.
(oh what a glorious leak!)
The waves they start to quiet.
Out from under the clouds, the sun has started to peek.
The two breaths lose their power, not a word do they utter, nor a sound do they speak.
The birds take place of the moans with a soothing sort of cheep,
as the thumping of two hearts grows steady, and the lions once more are the sheep,
Across sweaty faces, yawns cling to lips.
limbs intertwined are heaving, but still firmly to each other they grip.
Tiredly we fall into the sea of sheets, for a most refreshing dip.
As eyelids close and laboured breaths make steady to doze,
We are cradled to sleep surrounded by the flawless rubble that is our ship.