Of Lamenting Desire.

A congregation of candles
reflected upon two pairs
of hungry eyes,
a pair of starving lips
awaiting redemption,
absolution,
salvation.
Hovering fingertips
over the pale
skin
of screaming
desire.
My senses are
bewildered,
my mind
confounded,
my heart
enticed.
Every inch
of my body,
every particle
of my soul
wander
the corners
of your celestial,
archetypal
form.
I become a
slave
of your beauty,
a servant
of your spirit.
The stars
shine no brighter
than your eyes,
the flowers
smell no finer
than your flesh,
the rain
sounds no sweeter
than your breath.
Of lamenting
desire
I live,
of incessant
concupiscence
I exist.
Because
no me
can endure
with you
not feeding
my psyche.
No me
can love
if
you
are not
in the spectrum
of my life.
Give me
the pleasure
of hearing you
sigh
with closed eyes,
of watching you
tremble
under my touch.
Bless me
with the joy
of feeling your
hands
traverse the curves
of my body,
illuminate me
with your glance
cascading
on the obscurity
of the moments
I spent
apart from
you.
All I beseech
is you
under the aeonian
moon,
all I crave for
is the blossoms
of your affection,
all I need
is the weight
of your body
against mine.
Provide me with
immortality,
for your love
makes me
fearless,
ageless,
and forever
alive.

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