A simple glance, then down, away,
a message sent without a sound,
and more than ever words could say
but sets my hopeful blood to pound.

The conversation, lost to meaning,
no more than a verbal guise,
a mere device now turned to leaning
toward the promise in your eyes,

now brings us to a different place,
a quiet where at last begins
an open hunger, hearts to race,
as your neck’s hollow draws me in.

A sheaf of moonlight, silken hair
to tempt my hand and drown my care,
‘til everything is gone
and new
and every sense will beg for you

An arm around your waist and close
your breathing threat’ning overdose

the final fire
      a distant roar

white hot desire
                too much and more

with tidal force the lightning strikes

      and thunder rolls

            and souls take flight

A gentle kiss
      and dream again,
  until this sacred night should end

And oh, that I could have this scene
and not a dream.

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Stranger, here you will do well to tarry; here our highest good is pleasure.