The summer sunlight strokes my skin to heat.
It is your touch, this ghost of a caress:
Your hands, your breath -- still unknown but no less
Real -- your lips on my throat to taste the beat
Of a now-unsteady heart. In the light
Your body presses down, foretelling night.
Evening rises, the playing breeze my kiss
On the velvet of your breast, licking slow
Paths across the sun-formed topography
Of your flesh. Full night settles and I see
The stars, wondering if your eyes hold their glow,
Or if my bed shall hold more than just this,
A dream that bears your face. Sleep claims my eyes
To shape a vision: you, here, when I rise.
It is your touch, this ghost of a caress:
Your hands, your breath -- still unknown but no less
Real -- your lips on my throat to taste the beat
Of a now-unsteady heart. In the light
Your body presses down, foretelling night.
Evening rises, the playing breeze my kiss
On the velvet of your breast, licking slow
Paths across the sun-formed topography
Of your flesh. Full night settles and I see
The stars, wondering if your eyes hold their glow,
Or if my bed shall hold more than just this,
A dream that bears your face. Sleep claims my eyes
To shape a vision: you, here, when I rise.
No comments:
Post a Comment