Again we wake in
Blessèd night,
Your pillowed thighs awaiting wide
To clasp my soul, to
Squeeze so tight that,
By pure reflex, lust relights
And I respond
From 'cross our secret
Hellespont.
Your moan I suck
From skies afire,
Your wet seduction
But feeds desire and
Quenches not our
Lover's pyre. Seduction
'Guised as invitation,
Invitation to invade, while
You your astral flame do flaunt.
Your blazing female glare, it
Tempers taut and oils anew
My lover's lance or, perchance,
A poignard hard for
You, the sheath,
So measured as to twin our
Pleasures, bright and keen as
From between the two extremes
Of pain and carnal ecstasy,
We crave in chorus,
Thrash in time and, as if
Planned, let fly a holy joy
In one transcendent cry.
So, once more a
Melding fresh as if our first.
My love, my one desire, you still
Inspire a lust for which all Love
Does thirst: a lust required 'fore
You bleed sacred, tender nectar:
Fulsome lips, slick, a-drip
Upon mine waiting 'neath to drink
And pay-in-kind full measure.
For Love is ever in the balance:
Beat for beat, a heat for
Heat, our hearts we barter whole
In trade. Love's elixir you do
Spill all salty-sweet but though
From you received, as with all
Else, it shall be shared, for
That's how lovers say
Their prayers.
