The Night

The night curved stars upon us like a veil
folded over the jagged scars of day.
Too dark to see your tongue against my pale
flesh settled soft around you where we lay
within the breathless murmurs of the breeze
and curtains barely moving in the chill
hour where lovers touch and take their ease
to strain against the need of each one's will.
O fallen like the apples of my breasts
into your desire. Move me, take me
out of this vale of life, where pain arrests
my joy too often to forget and flee
into this petaled passion, garden soft,
beating with limbs like wings ascend aloft.