Aerodrome

 
Aerodrome

    “...across feminine land indulging its easy limbs
    In miles of softness...”
            Stephen Spender

Hover in the void
      between breath
    and await a touch
floating the gentle curve
      of anticipation

a whisper of flesh
      trembles
    rises an arc
of almost – almost
      to fingertips.

Voice, a sound
      lighter than air
    an ascending “Please”
of her fragrance
      in open sky

and soar
      the surge of need
    a breeze – zephyr shed
embracing
      in ardent motion

to crest in the wind
      then descend
    through calming gusts
and humid sighs
      of afterglow.