Luck is smaller than a stamp.
A bird in the sky. Quite far on top.
A dandelion in the grey asphalt.
A gust of wind in a weeping willow.
A single duck on a big pond.
A red leaf falls from the tree. A child finds a stone.
A kiss on a window pane. A small cut in the finger.
A letter in the trouser pocket.
A coin from a distant country as change money. A pigeon winks.
An old woman sits in the window and waits.
A curtain moves.
A black dog, bound in front of a butcher's shop.
A voice from far away.
You turn round.
Hundreds of faces.
Rain falls silently on shoulders and noses. Even more quietly. It whispers.
Whispers.
Quiet.
Quiet.
Recognising. Found.
Who are you?
Who are you?
I`ve seen you before. Or am I thought?
I sat once on a chair. It was still warm from you.
And something smelt of you. Something in the fabric of the tablecloth.
Where you placed your arm, your hands touched it.
I`ve waited.
You didn`t come.
Wait.
Wait.
A voice whispers inside me.
Wait. She will come.
If you are quite quiet.
If you don`t breathe.
Don`t speak. Don`t think. She will come.
Do you hear her steps? She appears as careful as the snow falls on silent roofs.
She`s gently. Easy like summer clouds.
It could become summer.
Spring.
Winter or autumn.
Coldly. And it will certainly rain. Like it always rains.
The luck hides in the shades.
It may burn in the glowing summersun.
Luck is an evening. A glass of wine. A blackbird answers another.
Clean sheets on a bed. A snug pillow. A sleeping suit.
A tired head on the chest of the lover.
A warm hand in yours.
A kiss.
A breathed promises.
I am yours.
She`s close.
So close.
Her scent is luck. The taste of her skin is luck. Her hands on your face.
You can stay.
This is luck.
Still be there. Breathing. It is peaceful. You hear the dust granules fly.
Their silent song.
Her breath is luck.
Your head on her naked tummy is luck.
Her heartbeat. The melody of her soul. Nothing moves. Time stands still.
Slowly becomes the world.
It turns no more.
Softly you kiss her navel.
Further down.
You are gently.
Tender.
Quite heavy she becomes. Your hands clasp firmly her hips.
She breathes.
She breathes audibly.
Her breath is luck.
Her body strokes your hands.
Also this is luck.
You inhale.
You drink, you eat her scent.
With every breath she gets closer. On and on she flows into you.
Once more you kiss her.
She becomes warm, so warm. Gently she starts to writhe.
Your mouth, your lips, your tongue glides deeper.
She holds your head.
This is luck.
Her hands show you the way. Gently. Slowly.
Her body shows the way. Liminal.
There`s no time.
There`s no aim.
Her moist peach finds your lips.
Remains.
She presses carefully against your mouth. And everything in her is kissing you.
This is luck. She kiss you. You kiss her. Deeply.
You place a hand on her belly. Both hands.
You press it softly down.
She lifts her hips.
Micromotion. A tiny wave. A quiet sea.
Everything becomes one. It melts with each other.
Her hands, her body more demanding. You feel her strength. Her eagerly desire.
This is luck.
She takes you with on her way.
Together you gliding along the horizon.
On the wings of the sensuousness and passion.
She bends her back. You taste the tears of ecstasy. Breathes her desire.
She ceases to exist.
Becomes a being of desire and sensuality.
She wants to give you a present.
Her secret. And you want it.
This is luck.
You feel it.
You smell it.
You taste it.
Yours souls mingle.
You feel all her muscles tense up. For one second it becomes quite quiet.
She stops the air.
To die in your last, deep and tender kiss.
You hold her tight. Drink her climax. Swallow it.
For a moment she leaves.
To a place, at which you can`t accompany.
You hold her.
Firmly.
You wait.
You know, she`ll come back.
Back to you. She will smile. With closed eyes. Red spots on her chest. Neck.
She will simply lie there.
Her hands caresses your face.
Gently you glide upwards. Slowly. Like a feather.
You look at her.
Her eyes are still closed. Still she smiles.
Gently you kiss the small sweat pearls off her upper lip.
Luck is smaller than a stamp.
You whisper.
She opens the eyes.
What do you say?
I have thought loud, you answer.
She close her eyes again.
She embraces you.
Pulls your head on her chest.
You listen to her breath.
Her heart.
It is quiet.
This is luck.
©Wortflorist
2010
