Of Love and Moonsweat
I remember the night I fell for you, our romance and a lifetime of nightlong dreams. The dreams where you whisper so close to me, seeding memories inside my mind. And when I awake I think you are there and reach up to touch you but clutch empty air, then flinch from the gut punch when I know you're a spirit and gone. I fall back defeated with the moon in my eyes and moonsweat beading my lips.
The magical night of our meeting, when I looked in your eyes at the novel unfolding behind, and I paged through your chapters and verses and read the story within. I dogeared each page, highlighted whole parts, underlined the bits I loved most; I inhaled the scent of your leaves. And with bright Luna's shine behind me, I leaned in and kissed away the moonsweat dotting the sensuous curve of your lip.
The thrill of our touch, our first "sort-of kiss," took both of us by surprise, me for the impulse (too courageous by far), you for my read of your heart. The silence that gathered between us-to you more of a shock I am sure-filled the space of a breath and I wondered you didn't draw back. But then you smiled and I smiled too and our noses bumped again and again when the moonsweat returned and I kissed it away, your spirit sweet on my lips.
That first night of our dance when we burned with desire to a sparkling flicker of fire; when we swept the dance floor illumined by hope and my palms burned with the touch of your hips; swirling music filled my heart while the shine in your eyes lit my face; your hair swept my cheek like the brush of a sigh and moonsweat glowed on your lip.
Our dance had a close but never an end, I meet you again and again at night when I dream you whisper to me that the love we share has no end. I return to the time I threw off restraint and control of my carnal desire, the abandon of self in favor of two, when I ran my tongue through your moonsweat, glistening beads burning like fire.