and cradled it
with hands so soft
the love seeped
from its pores,
and, now and then
you found my eager lips
as if to say, I’m here
and would you be,
my silent lullaby,
you hummed,
I felt your twins
just as they brushed
from pectorals
to centre stage,
you were so near,
yet it was closeness,
that I missed,
insatiable, was your thought,
I sensed it then
and nothing
would have changed
today, it was a journey now,
its slowness reminiscent of
a stage coach
out of Laramie.
There was no rush,
and promises arose
from naked skin
to give
with utter joy
from self
to us, as we were one,
still dreaming though
in fading gravity.
And it was right,
there were no doubts,
and when
you held my face
and cradled it
I knew,
my smile
was hidden in the dark
just like your boots,
there, by the bed
no words were said
I do remember still
the taste of forty
passionfruits.