A fire beneath flesh this night,
in the half-sleep you wander through.
Drums from your dreams still
beating, throbbing in those veins.
A strange experience indeed,
to open eyes with your hand
between very wet legs.
Ah but the vision that had
born this surprise had very
primal beginnings.
Hands barely able to touch,
eyes that daren't linger on *******,
a ***** almost afraid to rise.
The very act of unclothing
become a ritual, a rite of passage.
Tentative fingertips in soft places,
a brush of lips against bare flesh.
Somewhere there is a guitar,
strumming soft sounds.
Needing something solid,
something tangible,
you reach out.
To be filled up,
to be consumed by something,
to be taken in a ring of burning.
Your whole body feverish,
sounds escaping your mouth,
movement never felt before.
This....can be more
than just a dream.