Passion

Her skin is like wind under my fingers,
ephemeral,
unreal,
yet cool and silky.

Steam fills the air as hot water collides with our bodies and she moves against me.

Our eyes meet, questioning
and I
reach again for her,
unquenched
and thirsting.

Her lips curve into a slender smile and she welcomes me.

We kiss.

Moonlight and stardust last longer than our embrace,
but I do not notice,
for her kisses are butterflies on my lips.

I dance from the wine of her mouth to the ambrosia of her flesh.

I follow the water's path down her back, tasting honeysuckle and amber.

My hands shape her breasts and she keens as I pluck nipples stiffened to pebbly peaks.

She is liquid in my arms, turning to kiss me as the water goes cool.

I do not care, lost in the world that is our desire.

We stumble from the shower, falling into my room and upon my bed.

The sheets forgive us their drenching.