time the night, or winds might usher in a shroud of clouds
that deprive us…But if this occurs and the starlight is
blurred, I have only but to gaze into your eyes,
There is music in all forms of Creation, from sun beam to moon ray.
Even the raindrops speak with rhythm.
But none compare to the song of your smile.
I am a writer; I cannot afford to forget.
But I don’t have to dwell in this place of repute with you.
I give thanks for the quiet moments of bliss on nights like this;
I give thanks for tea time chats, and the smell of your lavender
bathing my skin.
These are the treasures of We I lock away in secret places, so that when my heart
is heavy laden with sorrow—I return to our forever place,
There are dimensions of intimacy I have shared with sacred souls, and such gestures were not appreciated…
There are souls who sought to share the sanctity of themselves with me, but I was too afraid, and fear became my companion.
And now, all we share are the ghostly echos of ‘could-have-beens’, revisited on chilled eves, masked in the melody of sad songs…
Your treble clef-shaped back line was my road to Damascus:
but my conversion was seen by the closed mind as perversion,
and in your temple I Am Wisdom’s Willful Whore;
shackled upon the tabernacle, stretched between glistening ebony pillars
which lead to Sacred Gardens of pleasures galore…
A thousand tears for a thousand years equal just one breath in this life…
And yet, having endured its maelstrom, am I a better man?
I love from a bottomless reservoir, and as such…I suffer.
But, if suffering is the mandate for knowing your Smile…then—the wage shall paid be, tenfold.
kisses from your lips could be no sweeter, lest dipped in the purest honey…and
I’d suck them still-achingly, hungrily, like eager babe upon its mother’s bosom seeking the day’s nourishment;
Your taste supersedes delicious: Love, you are the sweet Forbidden…nectar of the Night…and I must have more…