I woke in the wee hours on Terra Firma,
In the Irish version of spoons 14.
For those who don't know, Terra Firma
Is where I rest my head on your chest,
Nestled deeply into you.
The steady and calm beating of your heart
Draws me deeper with every breath.
Peace, safety, warmth, serenity.

The Irish version of spoons 14
Is on a scale completely foreign to American spoons.
We'll figure it out eventually.

Who knew the Irish were so advanced in spoons?
That is truly some Lord of the dance **** right there,
She says with a NY accent.

Spoons 14
Firmly planted in Terra Firma as I ride your breath
And memorize the beating of your lion heart.
Soft, gentle, and steady stroking of my hair,
Perfectly placed kisses on the back of my neck,
Interspersed with lilting commentary of desire.
It's Sunday morning as we melt our forms, hearts, bodies, and minds.
Perfect Sunday Morning, and that is only the beginning.