The ink black shadows of the night,
Uplift.
A new day born.
Sunlights white pixies,
Dance,
On my lovers form.
You dream, peaceful in our bed,
Content,
Your breathe a whisper.
The only sound my sighing,
Love.
My heart a quiet purr.
I turn, my hand reaching, gently,
Touch.
Fingertips on silken skin.
Your eyes, crystal pools of love,
Open.
My soul drowns in them.
Our eyes meet, our hearts,
Connect.
You take my hand, a kiss.
And liquid jewels trickle,
Crying.
For loving times we'll miss
Reality envelops, its constant needs,
Beckon.
Urging us to part.
But the protective womb of our embrace,
Soothes.
A warm soft shield of comfort.
Our sighs cloak the worlds demanding,
Cries.
Clinging flesh in sensual union.
The desperate, grasping need of our release,
Protects.
Worlds baying voice forgotten.
Reality breaks down our door,
Harsh.
But reality is blind, our love so mystical.
It searches, cannot find us,
Hidden.
For our love is pure, real, phantasmagorical.
