Hold Back
After the passion is spent
I hold you in my arms.
I am drawn into your beautiful eyes.
Eyes now filling with tears,
tears of joy,
tears of happy,
tears of love.
That soft smile that now plays across
your lips
tells me of your fulfillment,
had I not already known from
the unorchestrated music
that welled and exploded from
deep within
the depths of your being.
My heart swells with love for you.
That love bursts forth from the heart's confines
nearly cutting off
the flow of blood to my brain,
the very breath from my lungs,
and leaves a boulder lodged tight within my throat.
I gently brush your lips, you neck, your cheeks,
your nose, your brow with my lips.
As your eyes unwillingly close,
I lie beside you and watch sleep overtake you.
Your breathing calms and I watch
the gentle rise and fall of your breasts,
those lovely breasts,
as that smile remains on your lips.
I hold back my tears as
I try to hold back the dawn.
Knowing all too well what the
coming of the sun will mean.
The uncaring dawn will rip you from my arms
and will fling us both apart
for Goddess knows how long.
I pray for Time to turn back
and repeat this time with you
over and over again.
But as the last prayer is uttered from my whispering lips.
the first rays of the sun peek thru the trees
choking my words with a silent sob.
© Skya Wode
23 December 1997
