Lost and Found
I lose the muscle memory of resistance
and find myself in your arms.
The world is a cushion that gives,
an untroubled field, an unhurried promise,
paradise intoxicated by its own fragrance.
10 thoughts on "Lost and Found"
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First line grabs and holds.
Beautiful.
You do love poems so well! Exquisite!
First and last lines, excellent!
Glad you liked the first line. I was trying to find what it feels like.
Thank you, Wendy.
I like writing love poems. I’m not all political. I’ve been known to cry during sappy movies.
Thanks Mary. I worried the poem wasn’t enough, but sometimes a good line is enough to carry a poem.
Such a tender beautiful poem!
Great poem. Last line is wonderful.