Soft, Sweet Slumber
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oh, You ...
you found me again
unveiled amid the bosom of my dreams
my consciousness peeled away ...
engulfed in a twilight mist
for the memories of you to feast upon
drowning in the fathoms of your gaze
your scent - pouring its alert fascination into my head ...
the tang of your pulpy tongue
that confection sweet of your skin, resplendent
(and the even warmer places it led to)
vessels and walls and fair, tepid flesh ...
your intent within it all, to conduct me
while allowing me the sway to exploit
my exploitation of the moments -
letting me control your control of me ...
coy, seductive smile on your face
perfecting your line and movements
as a ballerina should - fluid ... edgy
it is all still there ...
as if the years were phantoms
gone with a breath of irresolute regret
and you inhabit me now as then
preying on my sleep-time meanderings, without mercy ...
without an ounce of benevolence
oh, you ... no other vexes me so completely, so purely
no one pervades my nettled dreams as you do
nor will anyone ... ever ...
twilight always comes far too soon, and
much too bright for truths ... the love that
we both swore eternity to - that we knew with
all conviction to be as sure as change ...
to be as dire as death itself
and as deep as the sea of suns
is now nothing but a damp blemish ...
on my pillow.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2018
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