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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