There is this Dance
That we always do.
First come the words,
Because we feel too shy.
Then, come the knowing glances,
Glances of longing as we chatter nervously,
Knowing well what happens next
Yet pretending otherwise.
“That which is on my mind,
Is it on yours too?
Desire (or is it Need?)
Are you wishing away my clothes too?
Are you wishing my mouth were on yours too?”
We draw each other to ourselves
And then our bodies take over
They know, somehow.
Who taught us this? Did you teach me?
What can be said but that it was all
Tenderness and exploration;
Gentle noises and fierce kisses;
I’m smiling as I kiss you back,
As my tongue dances with yours
As our hands explore this familiar, comforting terrain
The wonder of the first time is perhaps no longer there,
But the charm has only grown.
This is what my mind replays as I shower the next day
Wishing I could keep your scent on me a little longer.
And I remember everywhere I was caressed a
And, what we talked about later
In those moments, where everything around us seems warm and in soft focus
And when we were too tired of willing ourselves to stay awake,
We fall asleep, kissing and holding hands still.