Sweet moments of hands held

and mouths touching....

the feel of you melting into me

and me sliding into your arms.

Where does one begin

and the other end?

I do not want to see the edge.

Give me that one-ness... that blending....

tender words that mean more than a moment.

But then....

the fever of urgent need rises,

my body presses against that sweet joining

and I MUST have that wildness.

You know that wildness.

The wildness of stormy seas

and dark forest paths

and your body hard and insistent.

Your mouth speaking naughty words

that have no real world equivalent.

Made up words that only

belong to me and you...

Words of the wildness of our hearts

and the calling of our bodies.

There is no one-ness in this wildness.

It is too violent

and needy

and must have its own way.

Oh, my dearest, my heart...

Be wild with me.

Be one with me.

Be mine.