.
Yes, I miss to be touched
You say, as do I.
Hands folding in each other.
It is not my doing
The fire that wakes our bodies
And our mind, our fingertips, our eyes
That look so deep into the other,
All of us comes alive.
It’s the electricity of our closeness,
That is magical and wild,
And sacred too,
That makes me reach for forbidden places
Just teasing, playing along a new game
So close to insanity we bring ourselves.
About to forget the rules we must abide.
They seem so far away,
From this timeless melting into,
Your soft touch while I search for words
Your angelic eyes, that sassy smile,
You want to evoke in me,
The passion of Dionysus,
To be intoxicated only by,
The fragrant of it.
We don’t know what happened
On that endless evening.
Like a dream we played
The fire as our child,
Born from wells deep inside,
We thirsted for it, and cannot help
But remind ourselves of the magic,
When my warm breath touched
Your ear, a sigh, a moan,
A dangerous zone, almost
Too far.
I retain and come back,
To dance once more.
My eyes closed this time.
We just cannot stop I say
To feel as sensual as fire.
To feel so desired,
To find love
At play.
Like a flower you opened
Allowing me to catch the scent
Of majestic nectar, waiting
Waiting to be found.
Recalling all the vividness
Or our endless night
I remain a lovesick poet
Reliving the memories again
And again.
Soundless whispers from you
Still hang in the air
Almost tangible is the love
We witnessed in each other.
.
4 mei 2022
Poetry