When I need it, as I wish it, I can refresh myself with the feel of you—
I gaze straight, reach forward, and I cup your image with my palms
I draw my curling fingers up to squeeze you into me, coursing around
your pure cream shape, I open my mouth and taste the sweetbread
down the length of your neck, wanting nothing but to lay my tongue
and lips east and west between your shoulderblades—
pressing into you more, I bring your weight fully down on me,
raking smoothly the ridges behind your torso, I cannot bear you any
higher upon me or closer to my face, but your scent becomes my
oxygen and your heat becomes my own blood—
let me carry you through the misty bayou of your haze,
comforted and galvanized in my crossed grip beneath you
I want to carriage you to the far shore of your dark slumber,
keeping you blessedly, peacefully under spell with my kiss kept to your
temple, as I struggle to whisper, hoping you will be able to tell,
Good Night my Treasure, Sleep Well