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Slow Dance

 

Standing close,

cradled in the soft hands of darkness,

in the sweet sadness of our song softly playing,

we paused;

kissed for the longest time;

then with trembling fingers made bold

by your silent assent

I released you, revealed you,

and briefly found

agonizingly sweet curved softness,

then held you tight,

trying to absorb your softness through my skin.

 

The dizzying exhilaration,

the sudden exquisite pleasure,

the secret flood of feeling

never felt before -- too much to take:

you stopped,

afraid to open the next moment.

 

Not knowing what else to do,

we cried:

you, I think, embarrassed by your own

uncertainty and new-found desires,

and I from overload of plz-stopped passion;

dual victims of our past lives,

searching to find a way...

 

Our hot-mingled tears

joined in silent union,

braver than we ourselves

could be

that night.

Carl

April 25, 1999

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