Be still, my love, <br />I still am shy, <br />hard hands, I know <br />that pumicestone could not <br />erase the rough, <br />I shall be gentle though, <br />your skin speaks softly <br />of peaches <br />and of heavy cream. <br /> <br />I breathe as if it were <br />the very first occasion, <br />your tiny aromatic glands <br />a trillion, maybe more <br />have come to peek at me, <br />to tease erotic breath <br />into my inner self. <br /> <br />How silly, Pierre Cardin <br />and company, <br />reality does beg to differ, <br />I have been invited to, <br />allowed to stay awhile, <br />the feast of woman's own <br />I kiss your lids, so paperthin, <br />and think of Sandman who, <br />each night enjoys the sight <br />the glitter in those eyes, <br />round, sleepy pupils stroking me <br />half-closed with genuine love. <br />I drool a bit, knowing you like <br />just as I do, to share it all, <br />to taste each other's dreams <br /> <br />Lie still, my love, I have arrived <br />at the raised junction of your jaw, <br />the Roman cheek, born in the snow, <br />a glow of nearly Fuchsia mixed with rouge, <br />and yes, I am as eager, let me kiss <br />that mouth of yours, now silently alert, <br />I feel a PVC beneath your breast <br />a stumble of your heart, for us <br />yet not to worry, dear, we're chosen by the gods. <br /> <br />You stir (I thought it would be me) , <br />as if to ask what we already know, <br />so let us dream my love, the night is ours to keep <br />not even spirits will disturb eternal sleep.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/no-words-really/
