The Clearing At Moon-Tide
I lay so very still,
captive within the vowels
of your sigh,
passion coursing
through veins like a raging river
as you lay there,
bare and forgiving...
a response to words I could hardly whisper.
Words that had eyes,
and fingers,
words that crawled up your pale, beautiful skin
in search of a place to live,
in search of the unknown depths of heart.
If I could step outside of this dream
I could walk the path,
in blindness,
and still find you,
light becoming warmth
and close to touch,
your fevered pitch of voice calling me...
"come, my love,
find me in the clearing at moon-tide...
and passion,
as love,
will be home here"
(Feb. 24, 2016)
Copyright © J. Tudor | Year Posted 2016
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