He lays there,

soundly and peacefully


my Muse, my Love, my Beauty.

Strong and magnificent,

a man’s Man,

vulnerable in his complete nakedness.

I, fully awake and scantily clothed,

quietly gazing, utterly enthralled,

taking Him in slowly, fully and whole.

His beautiful mane,

dreadlocked and soft,

glistening wet in the moonlight from our sweat.

His Adam’s Apple – an irresistible and tasty treat.

Those lips – full, rich, assertive and so sweet.

My Love’s nose: broad and proud!

His nostrils, gently flaring now in sleep,

do so much more aggressively

when he abandons himself in heat.

I stare at Love’s powerful arms,

responsible for my first losing my resolve,

and within which I still dissolve.

His large and elegant hands,

that of a master musician demands.

His expansive back,

a continent of its own,

I can see it in shadow,

its every muscle, prominent and toned.

My eyes longingly linger down

to that beautiful mound

smooth and round-

like a perfect peach,

each one of his cheeks.

Next: those legs –

like that of a regal thoroughbred.

Legs strong enough to

off my feet, sweep

carrying me

to this here, our bed, our sacred Sanctuary.

I go to him, My BeLoved,

drawn by forces without and within,

those of innocence and sin.

I need to touch,

to feel,

to inhale him,

to lay entwined in a quiet embrace,

to get as close as the flesh will dictate.



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