I know a God, almost
too lovely to behold, his soft touch
stirs in me multiple wonders.

I’m stirred and I gaze into his face
and I gauge his embracing grace
in the way his body moves.

His graceful body moves
into mine and embraces
me whole, bone and soul.

His gentle, generous whispers
suffuse my soul as he strokes
my fragile spirit back to life.

Then at my dawn in his arms
I’m turned and immersed,
sated by in his gifted innocence.

I’m turned and I’m sated
by the flow of his thick breast milk
and the sweet fruit of his vine.

Together, we sway to slow angel-song
while he tutors me in timeless arts,
in his long-lost sweeping steps.

His timeless arts arouse in me
long aches of ancient senses,
not least the thrill of love’s touch.

And so, hand touching hand
I’m released, liberated
to love him and to run.

I run, released into him
sinking into him, to dance
in step for an eternity.