For what beauty does the morning cast

upon

your

skin.

The milky white, buttery smoothness

of blank stomach, of a stomach

that will never know no other hand

than a lover’s.

When the grass kisses your bare feet,

when the lips graze your neck.

You find your God in the nature of love.

I find my religion in the warmth of your breath,

I find distance evaporating in the closeness of your smile.

For when I love,

I love

wholly.

The snow falls in the winter

and with its graceful passing it wishes you

only the best, biding its time in escaping the sky,

finding solace in a smaller world,

in a world where only your love is of importance.

I wish you only the best,

I wish you infinite beauty and grace.

I wish you the passing of years

without ill, with only passion,

where the only strains

are those of laborious breathing

on a cool December day as your lips

kiss

mine.