Whisper

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Whispering, stroking, touching, worshipping....
133 words
3.75
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Whisper to me again, as you used.
Come back to this bed, to this
Warm embracing space out of
Time and care. Undress yourself
And join with me, in the crook of
My arm, your leg thrown over mine
Your long black hair spread
Haphazardly across my chest.

If Heaven is anywhere it is
Here, in this pocket universe
Of quiet breathing and soft
Laughter after. After we have
Drained ourselves, wrung out
The cloth of our passion and
Left it to dry waving in soft breezes
While we lie, bare to each other,

Whispering our tiny compliments,
Stroking, touching, worshipping
Each other. Maybe dropping off
Into quiet slumber, maybe, if
Time and the tide of life permit,
To stroke, stoke our fire into
Flame again, to be quenched
In long, loving extinction.

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