In all my poem reading,
I haven't been able to relate to a love poem.

Until tonight,
I always thought the writers were exaggerating.

Yet, this feeling of connection is remarkable.
I suppose I would need a strange poem to describe it,
too.

I was drunk once.
Drunk on love,
drunk on lust.

I was drunk,
warm and full.

You were sober,
cold and empty.

Beloved,
In what other lives or lands
Have I known your lips
Your Hands
Your Laughter brave
Irreverent.
Those sweet excesses that
I do adore.
What surety is there
That we will meet again,
On other worlds some
Future time undated.
I defy my body's haste.
Without the promise
Of one more sweet encounter
I will not deign to die.