Two Soup Bowls

Warm soup
from my kitchen
carried onto
small spoon
within your strong hands
they carry with care
nutrients
seasoned with hints of
romance
kindness
love
... white light shining
up above
highlighting your sweet lips
lips about taste
such a soup
lucky?
no.
Blessed they are...
cared for and loved...
each morsel consumed
is as delicious
as a caring kiss
sweet and sensible
never cruel
nor apprehensible
no...
warm, hot soup
then passing
caressing each taste bud
falling and caressing
your core...
that core which beats
it beats...
for my soul...
and mine for yours.
-- Chevalterre Nabil, 20 Sept 2015