They speak of songs, who cannot sing,
and muse-less falter words into the night,
forgetful of the eyes that watch, the eyes that see
their halting terms of passion and delight murmured
in lovers' ears.
What hope, then, for those of us who know,
but dare not speak of love for fear of death, that
silent hungry hunter ever stalking
closer, ever closer, ripping the breath
from lovers' lips
With cold, implacable steel. A claw, bright
as moonlight on a distant shore, or a shell,
honeyed, honed and deadly, could tear you
from me, precious one, to leave me
empty, hollow, cold...
Jade in gold - I have the words
and the will to speak, to tell you that without you
all is void. (Welcome - then - that sweet sweet endless sleep
dreamed and dreamless, lost in you, with you,
But I would rather live, and live to tell you so.
My equal in power and fire, the other half of me,
whose soul is mine, as mine is yours. Be mine, wholly mine,
and give me leave to free our shared desire...
Let me hold you, meld with you into
one bright being, moon and sun combined to
make radiant the night and warm the day -
Let me be yours, always and only yours
and I shall show you rapture only dreamed of,
sweet and deep and slow, cascading through your soul
in deep slow sensuous waves of passion
beating in rhythm with your heart
unheard and silent, all-encompassing,
for all of time...
© 2000 (July) Joules Taylor
© 2000-2005 WaveWrights