LONG AGO YEARS.

LOVERS IN A DARK PLACE

What heat is this?

Where is its source?

Where her eyes
once shone
bright as stars
firelight flares
only around us
pushing back
the darkness
to the shadowy depths.

Our lips meet,
warmth on warmth,
tongues invading orifices
those caverns
of joy and juices.

Somewhere out there,
beyond the darkness,
voices call and scream,
we make love
to the chill wind's touch,
fingers of each
touching each
where each enjoys
and oft employs.

Whose voices?

Why the cries and screams?

It is the stuff of nightmares
not dreams,
all seems so real
this entering and pleasuring,
this timeless practising
in joy's arena,
that no place
for half measure.

Gatto fresco,
artigli affilati,
fingering me
in this echoing darkness,
her breath in my ears,
looking back
remembering
those long ago years.