Night crisp air,
wispy hair tickling the wind.
The Moon reflected his face so close,
I could pull silvers around my fingertips
and touch them to my lips.
One lick and I am drunk,
defenselessly open to his caresses,
his sweet scent, his smile
His breath in me..
Drinking bare-skinned
deep draughts of liquid Moon
like a babe latched on a milking breast
slaking an unending thirst.
Stars whorl around us
pooling in our eyes
reflecting and refracting
a kaleidoscope of memories
as I lay down on him,
entwined in Remembrance,
pregnant in Ecstasy.
***

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