Sweet moments of hands held
and mouths touching….
the feel of you melting into me
and me sliding into your arms.
Where does one begin
and the other end?
I do not want to see the edge.
Give me that one-ness… that blending….
tender words that mean more than a moment.
But then….
the fever of urgent need rises,
my body presses against that sweet joining
and I MUST have that wildness.
You know that wildness.
The wildness of stormy seas
and dark forest paths
and your body hard and insistent.
Your mouth speaking naughty words
that have no real world equivalent.
Made up words that only
belong to me and you…
Words of the wildness of our hearts
and the calling of our bodies.
There is no one-ness in this wildness.
It is too violent
and needy
and must have its own way.
Oh, my dearest, my heart…
Be wild with me.
Be one with me.
Be mine.
