the wild flowers know where it begins
a sweet resistance of eyes
that melts where love drips
behind the petals of hushed uncertainties
where our bodies flower for a while
intoxicated spirits meet like
dragonflies, with no hiding places
not found out by our passion’s wick
where burns a slow peace to drink
pleasure on the burning stove
of youth’s dripping with ecstasy
our hot and quickening breaths not meek
with heated tongues for blessing’s approval
where destiny might mesh
softness and hardness, begging for
a chance to be loved again
and kisses that stray from the lips
slow rhythms that mount for comfort
the comfort of the moment, in the dark
full of an insistent guide to gasp
the smiling of our bodies in a stroke
to dance in erotic foreign substance
this first time, to climax together and release
with an ease of laughter and the heart’s reply
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Viv Drewa - The Owl Lady 