#Poetry #Archives
Visceral passion plumbs the virginal depths,
flesh and bone shudder.
Falling into the eternal depths of darkness.
Thrashing limbs – enmeshed.
Fighting for breath, most of consciousness gone.
The petite mort balancing,
the delicate scale that holds us between
life and death – precarious.
Excitement ramped up to supersonic levels.
Body return – quaking
tears escaping her closed eyelids,
masculine arms – enfolding.
Sort kisses rained down on her upturned face,
murmered reassurances.
Inside her body she does not feel – creation.
That moment in time – unique.
They bathe in the soft after-glow,
smiling at each other,
exhausted and complete.
Harsh words and accusations, are months away.
His indifference – cuts deeply,
she wears her scars with pride, motherhood comes,
unbidden into her world.
Lost in mundane tasks she forgets that moment,
until looking back, as we do,
she remembers it’s wondrous profundity.
The creation of life,
shimmers like a dew drop on quivering grass.
©🦊VixenOfVerse, 2026
VIXEN of VERSE 
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