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Your body warm, pressed against mine,
a sweetness oozes into me.
Its intensity is almost painful.
It swells within me.
I want to drown in it.
Your eyes darken like thunder,
and awaken a hunger in me.
I have craved this for so long.
Before I was plain.
Now I grow beautiful under your gaze.
A thought captures me and I must write of it.
You possess me now.
Will I survive this?
Because it is almost too familiar a taste.
As I touch you I touch myself.
I lift my hand to rest it on your skin.
The sensation is immediate
and fills me with the same comfort I give you.
David, I am overcome by your power,
your haunting presence near me, within me.
Your tenderness is like a ghost
that walked across my lips.
I remember it but fear is its companion.
Like spirits you could disappear
and only a fragile halo of warm light
would remain in my memory.
And so, this joy, this rapture that envelopes me
and lifts me also separates me into two parts.
One, who wishes to express it, share it
and freely give it life.
The other, frozen with fear,
shaking from the harsh possibility
of rejection, a rock hard resistance.
My eyes tell you the words
my lips are afraid to speak.
Painting: “Fragile” by Willem Haenraets, original artwork.
