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to the gentle grace
as a steady rhythm
becomes our pace.
Hazel meets russet
shoulders meet knees
suddenly rushing,
a puddle from a stream.
Soft, long chocolate turns to cognac
and is gripped right at the end:
Small hands spread sun-frenched skin
and forcefully, she bends.
A fist is thrown in love
a slap earned in deed
and silent screams
loudly reach fruition:
How acts bring us to our needs.
Light snoring ensues
the sun sets a bit
perky ups and ends coddled
within minutes,
again.