long to be with you,
to sup my sight
upon your slender physique,
to fill my day’s horizon,
and not merely my nighttide dreams,
with the Vision that you are.
I am left breathless when you utter words
of such gentle wisdom and compassion,
and I can think only of quieting you,
quieting us both if but for a moment,
to feel your moist, supple lips
pressed tenderly upon my own,
moistened further still
by the tears of adoring joy
which would well up
from deep within my Heart,
then slowly down the velvet of your cheek,
blessing, in this way,
our Angels’ Kiss.
I am taken to a day
when I might linger quietly
beside you as you slept,
watching over you in tranquillity
as I meditate upon
the gentle rise and fall of your breast...
I could then dare only to awaken you,
to nestle down in serene observance
of the warm, peaceful thrum of your heart,
allowing it to return me
to some long-forgotten infant state
as I rediscover for myself
such appeasement in your gracious clemency;
only to then cradle you in your turn,
as a father would his babe,
to soothe away your deepest griefs and woes,
and bring only cheerful reassurance
in their stead.
Copyright © Ron Koster/Psymon, 1996-2010.
All Rights Reserved.