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,
                  forever.)

       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
                  and mine

                  unheard and silent, all-encompassing,
                  for all of time...

© 2000 (July) Joules Taylor