12 October 2013

 

We drew, sleep-borne, to gently acquiesce

To sleep’s own bed, and dream of tenderness;

 

To drift into the wonder of that peace,

Your whispered skin, your breath in soft release.

 

It troubles me, this beauty that you own,

And take to distant dreams of yours, alone.

 

Exquisiteness of touch torments me raw;

Yet there is something softer, something more:

 

I never knew, in waking life or dreams,

A man like you, as dreamlike as he seems.

 

Your body is mine, is ours: I praise this gift.

Your mind, though, lies beyond me, cast adrift –

 

So take me there. Draw me to where you rest.

For I cannot design, I cannot best

 

Your dreaming soul in all its sweet delights –

This beauty calls for me, in restless nights.

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