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05/05/10 - (2)
Dawn's Fawns
"Please, L.D., won't you read to me What I've been watching you compose?" — This after I'd gotten up early, stolen, silently, from bed, Made a sacred grove of the dining table's alcove, Where I might try to recollect thoughts, emotions, sensations Yet glowing from the previous two mornings, When we'd awakened into each other's naked embrace, Slowly entered daybreak, through our sensual portals, Like sunrays groping to penetrate night's hovering mist. Already, I'd been writing for a timeless hour, So invested with images, symbols evoking our ecstasy Flowering in Monday's and Tuesday's overtures, That when you stepped out of the bedroom, Sat down across from me, To watch my ritualistic pen-and-paper word-by-word creation, I hardly noticed you approach, Witness my intense concentration, As I scribbled my silent hieroglyphics, Decoding, with the assistance of wisdom's Rosetta stone, The poetic knowing I'd gleaned from all my years, Which I'd title "Aubade of the Fawns." Indeed, by the time I abandoned my trance, Having put closure to those intimations of both yesterdays, Feeling my body pulsating with unwritten anticipation, Responding to your natural presence, pure desire, I stood up, drew you into my nude music, Held you so close that our throbbing veins sang our names. And in the uncontrolled throes of heated longing, We withdrew, again, into our haven, Set about reprising our spontaneous rites of adoration. When we were spent to ultimate refreshment, You, supine in fleshly wonderment of our senses, Spoke those yearning words, "Please, L.D., won't you read to me What I've been watching you compose?" And as I recited what I'd evoked from scattered patterns, All we could do was marvel at the poetry of my unrolled scroll, Whose substance and essence were what we'd just consummated And more — all we've shared and been becoming, As our aubade took shape, waiting for the day, hour, moment When you and I would be dawn's fawns, suckling love.
05/05/10 - (2)
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