Lesbian Poetry

Your Kiss

I search to find the quintessence,
I strive to discover some sinuous way,
No succor comes unto me,
It is the dearest price I pay.

Mute, yet the words still ramble,
On and on without making sense,
Their definitions leave me wanting,
They all lack your vital quintessence.

For a smith to the muses born,
Sweet lexis of tenor does fail,
I am silenced by your splendor,
Reticent, taciturn, a bard's greatest hell.

I willingly would shed my life's blood,
My soul I would barter with joyous bliss,
For but one flowing verse of veracity,
That could capture the essence of
Your kiss.