Home » Poems » Mark Matthews » Bed Under the Stars

Bed Under the Stars

Clinging moss
grazes my hair,  
    the ground
almost sponge like
       under my step
with the same growth.

Off to my right
   splashes and lapping noises
permeate through the air 
cascading off the trunks
of old swamp maples
as the soft breeze
shuffles the leaves 
through my hearing.

Behind that
   the ever present trickle
 of a single waterfall
    ripples through
the almost iridescent surface
of a mere pond
   encased
on three sides
by water eroded,
  algae coated cliffs.

 Two aged,
Lichen friendly boulders,
   almost sentinel like
guard the green carpet
near the shore,
the light of the full moon
   sparsely reaches
through the  whip like willow branches
that enshrouds us
  in this alcove of serenity.

The ground is so soft
I feel you land,
   almost prancing
as you approach,
my body vibrating
   from your presence.

A solid bar of moonlight
strikes my chest
   as your fingers
come to rest upon my cheek,
my hands 
   caressing the small of your back.
  I slide my right
down your thigh,
the other 
cradling your wings.

I lay you down
as the fireflies
ignite in their awakening,
 yellow day glow speckles
encompassing us.

Stillness builds
  as I support
     the back of your neck,
nails slightly breaking your skin
as I lean down,
   tasting your lips
      for the first time in ages.
Without control
  I nip your lower lip
  as I feel
    you stab
your left claws,
     gracefully,
into the flesh
    just under my heart,
trickles of energy
   curl towards
this diamond shaped muscle
    that pumps again
   within my chest.

The luscious taste
   of your blood 
rolls across my pallet,
     while without abandon
I start to devour you.
Snapping
your head back
  by a handful of hair
I lean in 
   and pass
      “my souls breath”
throughout out your body,
and as the tremors
   reverberate back
I snuggle down,
  legs ensnaring themselves
    as I guide your head 
into my chest
  where you 
sink your teeth in
        for a brief second

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