love once rising bright

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