There are days when
sliding into
the dream world of the scent
of your skin
the taste
of your tongue
is the only lesson I need
On being human
on breath and
breathing
laughing
loving
dying
and so this day
ends
as it began
in the prayer
of your
sweetest
kiss
She is the lure of forests
the laughter of oak
writing her name in my skin
We think of our mortality
at the strangest of times
Wrapped in the prayer of your body
I am abruptly reminded that
this is not forever. But what could feel
as good as this?
We love with the fever of wolves
in celebration of this gift
We love with the fever of wolves
for fear of nothing ever being as beautiful
the
road
to
your
heart
has
led
me
back
to
myself
