Mon Coeur by Jack Schimmelman

Someone once asked who is your love I don’t know if it’s from below or above She is a dance jumping in my heart waltzing in my bed bedsprings shouting “c’mon old man, don’t you dare play dead!” Then I turned my head three hundred and sixty degrees to see if what was said could be read by the sky, ocean and trees. But really -- the truth -- your love is? She blazes in my eyes each moment of my Being her light squeezing the darkness from me Her smile opens my mouth gathering speed her music weaves serenity Sure that my words had concluded their flight when from the circle of night infinity arrives with a soft thin tone which pleads please tell me please!

who is she? One time last I unfold my breath to sing She is the scent I will not wash Ascend the scent! Sink deeper and deeper through my skin cook my blood until (when?) we are born of sighs, moans, laughter, sweetness and pain When (until?) from our soul arise a mist of longing each drop caressing a tender storm brewing inside our bellies stretching grabbing kissing licking exploding inhaling our skin Rivers pour from our hearts painting an infinite garden swimming in the wind How do you say I love you she asked? Listen he said it is whispering in our bed.

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