…of my dreams

Across the velvet napeof my naked trembling neck
around the bare expanse of my silken silent throat
within my pounding heart, upon my very soul
I feel a softness, a growing warmth
your precious breath, feather light and gentle
a tender trailing touch, barely tracing across my skin
like the cautious quiet exhale of the weeping fading night
upon the fragrant glowing flesh of the groaning sighing morning
the freshly newborn moments of the shining, singing day
blushing at transgressions, at familiar desecrations
I know your touch, a weight without a substance
reaching all without a sound, without a whisper of betrayal
a silent surrender, encroaching, all encompassing
a growing sense of knowing
you will wrap yourself about me
hold me tightly in your arms
in the shelter of my dreams
© Ann Bagnall
2013