On a night I feel has been well lived
met is her sweet becoming gaze
that savory ocular innocence
built to shadow her soft, fluid, longing intent
that whispers,
"I am open to you."

And so she calmly is
and with my head
full of rocks and irrelevance
I unconsciously enter
and sigh

Once, again, twice more
our love traces a metronome
So soon does it become
an inhale
exhaled
I lean into her
limbs aside
in a love extension
a vital push through tension
and the small red brook that follows
flows to fill a page
and rest a mind