I dream of your kisses, still

Another old. Morning Star.

Between dream and sleep,
The covers over me and yet the sky
Above me – that clouded eternity
Gracing the top of my mind
I dream of a single kiss,
Hungry, searching, filling,
Satiating, the faint taste of
Pepper and onion and
First your body is hard against
Mine, masculine and muscled and
Then it rounds and softens
With breasts –
And still your mouth is the
Same, still your tongue is
Mine to be found.
This kiss never moves to
That grasping, clawing,
Needing, annealing flame.
It tastes only of dinner.
And I burrow into the feel
Of you –
The comforting grave of lust
The dust of pain
The ground of the garden
of Eden.



About Jenn

Find me on Twitter @JennGruden
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