At the End. . .

 
                   At the End

       Has another filled the empty space
      does someone else now touch your face
      with fingers light and spirit willing
   to share your thoughts and keep the chilling
        air of midnight from your back
     and bring some light to corner black
      to want to have you feel the warm
        of that from which my passion
                   for you
                   was born. . .

        Do you twist and turn in body long
      do you hear in distance your swan song
        is comfort found in something other
             than what we found
                 undercover?

             Will you ever let me in
        to hold and taste and touch again?