Like free-falling from the farthest reaches of

An atmospheric height, into the tight ensconcing warmth of

Blankets up against my skin—

Within your arms that’s what I feel and sense as

Your breath condenses in my hair, the caressing of

Your touch that lulls me into sleepy appetites, waxing nights that bloom into

Exquisite sensitivities, permeating cavities to melt us into one.

But once is not enough it seems, and so we leisure on the brink, to

Dip and sink again into the pools of heated touch. Like flames beginning to

Consume their source of needed energy, consummated, we begin to

Feel the ebbing of our needs. And at last into

The realms of restless satisfied repose, we have thrown our caution to

The wind, and I am caught up yet again, in the perfect light of

Dying stars, as I lie sleeping in your arms.