She never moans, weeps, sighs or sings his paeans,
as one would expect, seeing her ardor at it's peak
how could he still just be the receiver of her ****** mastery,
without all of that intermittently let out loud, without shame!

He feels compelled to look at her with a sense of thankful awe,
she, no doubt, is in a plane far far above, any classification,
just not a  participator or receiver , she is the moment itself,
on it's shining wings, ascending  to the rarefied air, ethereal
see, the look of self abandonment, on her intense  lovely face,
that tells all, a flight defying limits of time, a leap yet again.