A midsummer night's dream

Her eyes pierce through the dark. The milk of black hues is no match for the ferocity in the gaze of this fine beast. I find myself weaponless. Her lips offer an escape, her tender skin a world beyond this world. A haven of impenetrable qualities, draped in bleeding sweat. I steal a kiss. We are in a place free of weight and tomorrows. A scarless safe haven trapped in but minutes and hours of bliss unbound. Every touch electrifies my spirit. I steal a kiss.

She has me at her mercy. Vulnerable and aware. A wolf by any other name, shielding its tongue with an angry snarl and jagged teeth. She defies my worry with but a tender touch. Here, I know only the excess of ferocious gratitude; to overpower by absolute relention. The burning inside grows to uncontrollable, unknown heights, into a boundless fire to disintegrate the world around us. The walls melt as the shadows swallow the light. The whispering wind forgets its talkative nature. I am nowhere else. No one but the man in your arms. This is all and everything.

My fingers trickle like drops of burning water down your spine. I feel you shiver. We smile in secret from one another. Another secret to share. Do not move. Do not speak. This place is as deep as it is soft; as delicate as it is fragile. Succumb to the tickle and the tingle. Be forever devoid of words and allow this moment to pass without description.

Yet I am a poet. Never without words, never without elaboration. Never without a song in my head. Under constant threat of ruining many a beautiful and delicate thing by overexposure. But you know this as an afterthought, as a foreboding flash of things to come and no more, for in this place of disappearance and succulence there is but skin upon skin. Oceans of truth behind the smallest of gestures. Your eyes against mine, the combat of raging breaths escaping through opposing smiles. Our hearts in fierce tandem.

Rapture finds me without a fist to shake in its face. Words are lost in a maze of scents and sensations as spit becomes fuel and sighs build to a thunderous roar. You exhale with a whimper as your trembling body yields under my hand. In turn, I yield before all that is beautiful in this ugly world. In another place this moment will never end. It will play on and play on without end as the needle jumps back insistently, with defiant determination.

The air is heavy and wet, yet effortlessly we twirl it around our intertwined fingers. You are all too soft and tender to devour, so drop by drop, trickle by trickle, I will drink you. Drain you until you are mine. For tonight and forevermore, until the dawn looms and to the end of days. Before the bell chimes its final toll and after we've become nothing but sand and dirt. For whatever it is worth in the annals of time after time: no one can ever take this away.

Well, damn. Good morning.