Friday, February 25, 2011


Somewhere in between
the weaving of cotton-threaded sheets,
and the matched naked bodies
lying spooned to each other.
In the bliss that follows, 
the breathlessness, the exhilaration,
the praising of something
akin to a higher power
but chemically rooted in the brain.
The mingling of scents, for tomorrow,
his redolence will linger in her hair,
and he will smell her fragrance on his hands.
On the premise of loneliness,
of affection, of wanting,
They will give and taste of each other.
All in the name of oneness,
the search for skinlessness,
in between cotton-threaded sheets.

Catherine Schmidt

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