sleep soft, my heart.
once i might have laid gentle fingers on your thigh, slid
up along the curve of hip while dropping light and
lingering kisses along a sleeping spine. the heavy
dark is warm, and often we have scorned sleep for
endless touchings and midnight burnings — your body
rising bright and shining between my thighs, two beings
blending into one moaning beast. we forget for a
lost moment all the reasons not to love; sweat once
again proclaims that in this, at least, we triumph.
do not fear, my sorrow. though I have no heart for these
essential lies, i will not wake you with reproaches.
sleep soft, and never know what sadness lies in this.
*****
M.A. Mohanraj
July 24, 1996