You lock into my eyes, intertwining our predestined fates,
Making the world stop while our heads turned gray.

You smile, hoping the way you feel is justified and sincere.
This wasn't a chance meeting,
You hope this trembling inside your legs will stay strong.

We have no secrets, we have no commitments, we have no past.

Only death can keep you away.

You whisper words . . .

After dark, you can see your shadow in the moonlight.
Your saliva tastes sweeter than a watermelon coated with sugar.
Your eyes moved back into your head, you could not move.

You touch yourself . . .
Your soul is on fire
You go into seclusion
The window to the soul opens, you reach in and pull out a book.
It is dusted off gently.

Mother Earth sighs as her side slowly rumbles and shakes,
Shakespeare's newest lovers arrive 500 years too late.
Mother Earth goes back to sleep as her side stops moving
and Shakespeare goes on . . .

You close, you bleed, you cry, you die, you are . . .
broken

You want him to stop before liquid drenches and washes the
pages away. You laugh, you hurt, you play, you sing, you lie next to each other.
You wait for his next move.

It is loved, it is needed; you will love it,
you will need it, you will want to have it.

You close your eyes and envision the woman you are becoming:
Your gasp turns into the sounds of a lark calling.

It seems like there is no need to endure the thought of separation.
You softly cry as you realize what you always knew, this one's a keeper.

--Piper Davenport