The ends of fingers
and the tips of tongues
butterfly wings running
up and down
as the breeze turns
curtains into capes
a lazy haste takes over
our bodies
and we will our mouths
and our palms with each other
Desperately boldly without shame
We too giddy to remember
time or age
can only think with hips
and moans
find the ease of smoothness
and the spring in softness
eat the nectar of passion
like Italian Ice on a warm day
We are renewed in love
and ranked by care
There is no forever in our eyes
There is only and always
now and here
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