The raindrops pound the roof above me.
The whistling of the wind brings a familiar sound.
Have I been here before?
I may stay a while longer…
The white sheets are crisp
ready for sweat.
The scent of lavender is hypnotic.
My skin is brushed upon,
with the caress of his warm breath.
Tiny hairs are standing.
Skin is familiarly bumpy.
The sweet rain sheds its tears upon the fruitful womb of mother earth.
The cyclical seed is waiting to be fertilized.
The rise of expansion and contraction
a friction of steamy flesh
burn to fruition.
My sacred space is reserved.
The vacant spot waits for its tenant.
The intuition of the beat.
I offer myself to the instant
of the pulsing throb.
I am the vessel upon which a new breath will emerge.
I can hear the flawless cadence of his presence.
I have arrived at my destination.
I am complete.
I am in union with the shadow of my intuition.
I share my sacred space with bliss.
Two beats become one.