untouched now by their sodium glows,
your smooth hand slipped into mine
as we followed the vast pale moon.
The cicadas filled the thick air,
the night’s reverberant serenade
in tune with the unceasing drums
of hungry hearts when night falls.
And I feel the warm beat in my palm,
as your lips begin to search my own,
pressed against one of countless dark trees
that tower around us like still sentinels,
the ancient and silent guards hiding us.
The only oxygen stirring now are the breaths
we steal in between bellowed thunder
as we begin to slake our thirst,
tongues seeking the taste we have so missed.
I groan when you suddenly pull away,
hearing winds whisper through the pines,
leading me to the still lake as clothes are shed,
fluttering through air like uncertain apparitions.
We disappear into the depths.
The scene holds a deeper meaning,
all that was once so very familiar
is now edged with shimmering mystery,
telling me we are akin to the water,
the sky’s dark and rippling mirror.
How the night lies on the perfect surface,
no way to tell where one ends or begins.
Emerging to claim me beyond recognition,
I lose any semblance of eloquence,
syllables melt into raging groans
as hands seek between parted thighs.
Your body is a glistening fever,
covered in cool clear beads,
each one a magnified peek
into the universe of your skin.
And I feel the endless reverberant pulse
in that moment where time and flesh
all contract to pull me inside of you,
merge with possessive tight folds.
The only oxygen stirring now
is when we breathe each other in,
exhalations infused with our hunger,
seeking the warm beat we have craved.
I disappear into your depths.
