Passion   You are the beacon that every night fills my once-dark soul with light. I bask in the bright glow of your love. I seek your lips like a hummingbird seeks the sweetest flower : I taste you over and over and never seem to have enough. I crave the feel of your fingers on the back of my neck, pulling me into you, or warm and trembling on my chest as we kiss. I need your hungry lips placing frantic kisses everywhere on my face; your hot breath against my ear. My ears require your teasing voice, your softest I love you's make my heart race with the warm rush of a main-lined drug. Suddenly I am all skin and you are air : every pore of me is open wide to take you in, I need contact with your body to survive a day. My lips trace the curves and hollows of your body, seeking intimate places to leave soft kisses: your throat, behind your ear, the slight hollow place on your shoulder, between your breasts, until I am driven crazy with wanting you. When we are apart my fingers ache with need of touching; I run them over fabric, pillows, cool countertops, or even my own skin: imagining...imagining... Each night we paint pictures; our bodies are the soft canvases, our lips are the brushes, our kisses the many colors we use, mixing them as needed. Our time is near. I cannot wait to begin. Carl April 27, 1999