Consummation

My back is half a moon arched across the smooth expanse. Silence tickles my lips and drips from the silver skin of the round light flare. As you slowly pace yourself into consummation of our blue-black dreams taking time, to push me over the glowing horizon, just as the hot-light starts to flicker, so we wake in panting breaks sweet wetness, on our minds, euphoric sheety scents of you… left in my morning after, after, aftertaste…