for you just won’t do, nor should it. When my
body moves toward you, let it be our dance,
waltz perhaps, or tango. Whenever I
reach for you, let our fingers touch, slight glance
of palm on palm as we pirouette, our
eyes blazing, mirrored joy of exploding
stars. Let our graceful limbs ascend and pour
like spiritual waterfalls, floating
over shining floor, bright as great legends
called forth in song. If ever I do grasp
you, oh let my open mind comprehend
your blessed, unflinching gaze, my psyche clasp
your gentle face as sails catch winds, seething
in passionate moisture of your breathing.
Roger Armbrust
November 15, 2010
