My gaze
presses
the air between us,
and you return that
pressure,
your breath
visible
as the latent smoke
of smouldering
desires.

There's a heat within me,
like the warmth of whipped flesh,
that longs to kindle
into searing tongues of
consuming darkness,
and the answer within you,
red against the night,
vibrant against a backdrop of
velvet and glitter,
squirms toward the dark
to be born.

 

August, 2001