came in,
she smiled
and bent
in silence
then
to kiss his brow.
He stirred,
perhaps he marvelled
at the thoughts,
the vivid dreams,
their hopes
and wishes
as their time went by.
She felt secure,
a happy girl
whose charge,
whose flowerboy
was safe at home,
attended to
by loving hands
and touches
from her tongue;
she brushed his temple now,
her hair engulfing
his sleep-flushed face,
there was a hint of salt,
its taste
mixed with
what she now knew
was his,
she loved to feel
his lashes
as they gave
submissively
in to her flesh,
bathed in saliva
as the eyes dreamed on.
His hand
now reached,
unsteadily
for hers,
and both,
one dwarfed,
sought out
his trusted place,
and pleasant heat
soon welcomed them,
the whisper of their nights.
She sat,
as he would say
she placed her
lovely bum
upon his bed
and studied him,
the dark had yielded
to infinity
which fed her eyes
and looked into the years
that would unfold,
her other hand
now sought the comfort
in the company
of two,
he’d named them Twins,
two soft and silky mounds
with knobs of pink.
She stayed,
a wistful smile
spread to her lips
where one small drop
condensed from silver mist
had trickled down,
they’d talked about
so many things,
the high-fallutin’ ones
and some domestic chores
and happenings,
as if they were
without a question
now a pair.
He’d been afraid
of taking sleep
lest trumpet sounds
would break the morning’s peace,
he’d talked about a fast
so empty tubes
would not disturb
yet she,
(another smile replaced the old)
had laughed
and he had joined
at last,
there would not be
a wall,
they’d grown
as if the gardener
had placed them
in hormonal soil,
and they would share,
she had remarked
without delay
all things in life
which was,
and this they knew,
a life of one.
She kissed his ear,
her acrobatic tongue
exploring deep,
it was an echo in his dream,
bounced back
from walls of stone
and muffled by
the waterfall
inside the cave.
She thought about it,
long and hard,
and knew
that she would never leave,
she’d hold his hand
as he had said
throughout their life
and, finally
until the moment
one would have to go.
And then,
there was again
the scurge of time,
they’d wait
until the advent of
their true infinity
when they would,
once again,
be holding hands,
and kissing eyes
and ears,
and touching skin,
and smothering,
each taking turns,
the other
with their endless love.
He’d have prepared
their private cloud
and fretted over things,
he’d want her happy smile
and find their heart again,
its beat
so reminiscent of a drum,
to share eternity.