A strong breeze makes the rowan tree
List toward the house, and its branches caress
Lightly beneath the window while we kiss.

Heaven’s eyes seem closed; shrouded stars shine tonight
And all of the clouds seem backlit
Like a celestial marquee–the glow peeks through the panes,
Lingers on our bodies while our fingers sculpt
Over secret curves and hollows.
While the wind whistles through the trees,
Sandalwood candles scent the room, their wicks tremble

Even as my mouth does, reaching for your mouth’s descent,
Voracious for more–desire
Envelops us as the night breathes its approval.

–Bijou

Advertisements