July 18, 2001
...nothing's so warm as

...nothing's so warm as my lover's hand
resting lightly by my thigh,
nothing's as fine as the warm white wet sand
briefly tracing our twinned stride,
nothing's the same since that foam trickled off this beach,
nothing's between us;
your soft sand reaches out to meet my sea,

nothing's ever moved me like the tides of us,
nothing's what I want when I'm with you,
then nothing's all there is--no Sun, no sand, no sea
nothing, I should say, 'cept the shadow of you and me. 

Posted at 04:32 AM | Comments (0)