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.