I wake, to the rhythm, of you
breaking slowly, behind my ribcage.
The orchestral swell;
the auric light, of rosy dawn...
blooming, to new life.
More, than a phantom.
More, than a phantasm.
I yearn, to be wound, around you,
in long, lingering threads,
of bruisy, purple-gold daylight,
and pull tight, as I knit myself,
around your stretched form...
soft-skinned, and sleepy...
pulling you so tight to me,
that your body barely rocks
upon the edge, of the tapestry needle.
Let my legs, be the woven fabric,
that ensnares your hips,
and pulls you, even closer, to me.
I want to feel, your rippling laughter
burble, through your chest.
I want to swim, in languorous strokes,
the fathoms, of your aching mind,
with the ease, of turning your thoughts:
flipping through its dog-eared pages,
like the well-read chapters,
of a readily studied, book.
My arms, seek to hold you,
and cradle you, to me,
lips, pressed to your skin,
plush, and satin pillow soft.
I want to devour you, in rapacious,
repeated kisses...I want to feel
the spring-coiled tension,
above your shoulders, snap, and unwind
relaxing, in helpless surrender,
at my nymphic touch,
as the rest, of you...hardens, like resin
and then melts away,
between my own spread,
buttery thighs.
I want to be so filled,
with the full, of you,
that you spill over, and escape...
I want to clutch your face,
in the tenderness of my fingertips,
and lose myself, in the labyrinth
of your lovely, dreaming eyes.
I need you, like flowers,
need gentle rains, to bloom.
I desire, you...like the prime, of night,
awaiting the the rising moon.
and I wait, for you...
like the guitar string solo,
in a beloved tune.
******, I love you.