I could look at you for long hours,
stretching beyond the bounds of courtesy
and daydreams,
noting every nuance,
the exact way
a smile smoothes
across your face,
every masculine crease
a temptation to touch, taste…

And your eyes……
bedroom eyes...
Ah, memory serves no justice
of your sultry amber eyes.
Long hours, I could look at you.
But then, we moved closer.

I could touch you for days on end,
trailing fingers over contours
of muscle well defined
slalom back, tracing
every detail so clearly in
fingertipped memory.
days, touching you….. days.
But then, we moved closer.

Oh, Lover, I could kiss you for months,
lips so warm, willing, hungry…
Pressing, moving, a whole participation
of lovers' sip and swirl,
wet whets wither want wavers
upon the precipice, plunging
down
down
down
till drunken on
roses red dipped and twirled
in ambered ambrosia.
Hours, days….months
I could kiss you.
But then, we moved closer.

Make love with me for years
and I will be not full
nor filled, yet ever still
reaching for you, wanting
your wanting.
Needing your needing.
Beyond words,but then,
we moved closer.

Lover,give me decades
to look,to touch,
to kiss,make love.
Decades.

And at the end of decades,
four or forty,
it will not be enough
Moving closer…..
I will not be finished
falling in love with you.