The night we gave was like a secret, lover,
hand to hand, body to body in the dark.
A flame kindled once again
through some mystic connective
tissue pulling us close together
in a single careful touch.
Before that moment quietly
stormed through us
We had never been more vague,
glowing to one another as if
our hearts burned along dark horizons,
the automata of a lonely pain.
And as your dress loosens now,
the soft fabric tingling along my fingertips,
receding from your fair skin like burgundy waves,
beauty once only seen from an unfathomable distance.
But the night is really an ocean to me, lover,
your desire resides in its endless depths,
in the frail starlight shimmering upon the surface,
the flecks of lush forests and mists in your eyes,
this stillness is only momentary, though,
as we lie body to body, soul to soul in the dark.
A flame is kindled once again
through some mystic connective tissue
discovered in this unceasing human current.
Before that moment
quietly stormed through,
we had never been more vague,
glowing to one another as if
we burned from the faintest margins,
the automata of a lonely pain.
And as your body begins to open now,
a soft world ripples at my fingertips,
a breath exhaled as heated winds
blowing at the universe’s brink,
a precursor to possession’s fiery rain.
But the night is really an ocean to me, love,
I move through your depths and discover
that desire is unfathomable in your grip,
this blissful and indescribable clasping.
In the frail starlight shimmering upon your eyes,
the flecks of winter mornings and mists meeting,
there is no stillness, but a need forever burning,
a release always waiting to burst inside you
as we lie body to body, soul to soul in the dark.
