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Feb 2020
What is a life but a second with you
in a room with no furniture but our
bed. We shed our clothes as though
they are our past and I lift you gently
onto white linen sheets. I shudder
with excitement as I slide beside
you, your golden hair a trail from
your naked hips to your turgid *******,
pink as cherry blossoms, ***** as
Spring’s harbinger, white crocuses
sprouting by a winter’s stream. I
dream of you even as I’m with you,
stroking your gracious, lissome arm.
I give your neck a kiss. I wish not
to miss any part of you. I am on
a journey of love and your body
beautiful is my destination. Though
I have traveled this path before,
every movement of the palm of
my hand feels anew. I caress
your tender ******* that elicits
moans like voices of heaven’s
angels that give wing through
our gift-giving of ****** sharings.
Now it is time to touch your soul,
the epicenter of your being. I am
seeing again the provenance of
your goodness and greatness
that complement your pulchritude.
I am blessed by your spirit. We
are untrammeled when the two
of us make unending love.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks
A graduate of Andover and Columbia College, Columbia University, Tod Howard Hawks has been a poet and human-rights advocate his entire adult life. He recently finished his novel, A CHILD FOR AMARANTH.
TOD HOWARD HAWKS
Written by
TOD HOWARD HAWKS  79/M/Boulder, CO
(79/M/Boulder, CO)   
365
 
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