Sitting in Michael's Lap
I lingered in your darkened room tonight
To listen to you breathing as you slept;
And only shadows clothed you from my sight
As closer to your sweet repose I crept,
To place a gentle kiss upon your brow,
Intending only this, and not to stay;
But slumbering, you called to me, and now
The Fiend could not have tempted me away.
I watched the working of your velvet lips,
And saw their softness part to speak my name;
You gestured then with dreaming fingertips,
As though you sought another's hand to claim.
I gazed at you in quiet disbelief,
And questioning the soundness of my ears,
But through my house of doubt there crept the thief
Whose name is Hope, to rob me of my fears.
I glided close beside your sleeping form,
As though admittance to your dream to seek;
Your breath upon my skin was gently warm
As tendrils of my hair caressed your cheek.
With trembling hand, I brushed the wisps aside,
Then trailed my fingers softly down your face,
While passion born of wanting long denied
Electrified the swiftly closing space
Between my lips and yours. Your features shone
Beneath my gaze, a lover's vision styled
More gracefully than any I had known –
And as you stirred, and then awoke, I smiled –
No longer worried for the consequence,
I met your lips before the question came;
Without remorse, I cast aside pretense,
Well knowing things could never be the same ...
Then wakefulness assailed my dreaming eye,
And as you slept, I breathed a wistful sigh.
Full fathom five thy father lies,
Of his bones are coral made,
Those are pearls that were his eyes;
Nothing of him that doth fade
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange...
--William Shakespeare, from The Tempest