thantofeelyoudeepinmyheart
somnambulists and butterflies aside
my goddess descended from on high
dripping nectar, carrying mead . . .
as she gathered me to her breast
i trembled with love
and quaked with lust;
as she caressed me with her hands . . .
i worshipped her with my lips;
as she tasted of my skin . . .
i drank deeply of her sacred honey.
words could never express
the juxtaposed jubilation and despair
of having her memory burned into my soul
while she is so far from reach.