Afternoons With You

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You greet me
with fire and roses,
breathing my skin in
as if it were your own.
My trembling
does not give justice
to the pounding
of my heart.
I melt into you,
succumbing to
all that you are,
and your heartbeat
echoes on my skin.
Consumed,
there is no
goodness apart from you.
There is no desire
other than this place
where we stand.
Vacant rooms
beckon to us
in shades of gray.
We fumble down the hallway,
eyes closed,
lost in curious imaginings,
overcome with a longing
deeper than than we
have ever known.
Your bed,
once a silent tomb
is suddenly inflamed
with passion's fire.
I have no beginning.
You have no end.
We are.
The ceiling fan
whirs above us
in voyeuristic pleasure,
drowning out
cries of release
as we drown in
love's nectar.
Spent, we entwine.
Parting is a pain
we cannot entertain
until the fire dims.
And when the door closes
behind me,
your dew still upon my lips,
I smile in remembrance,
longing for more
afternoons with you,
lost in all that we are.