It was one of those nights <br />when the moon was a bright token, <br />a silver coin that we would spin <br />and on its fall, win - always win - <br />the love that in the day we'd spoken of, <br />the long moonbeams silvering <br />your shoulder as you turned to me, <br />our faces separate only in name <br />and then not that... our fingers <br />searching skin and finding <br />satin, rippling muscle, softness <br />of hair and lips, effortless flow, <br />limbs suddenly fitting spaces... <br />congruent... inevitable... <br />pleasure arriving <br />like a long-awaited guest <br />invited in... <br />making conversation wordless, <br />intense... <br />moonlit... <br />one of those nights.<br /><br />Janice Windle<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/for-d-nall-one-of-those-nights-2/
