Every time I Write

I don't just write...when your arms enfold me,

passion pours out of me in unending waves and dangles language like a shimmering trail suspended tantalisingly above the paper in a perpetual tease daring me to try

I don't just feel the pen...there is no tactile stimulus,

when our souls reach for the endless memories of connection through lifetimes of understanding that physicality was not essential; sensuality can choose or choose not to use an instrument

I don't record our experiences--our encounters...futile attempts to capture the capture-less

I live in dimensions of us untouched and unwitnessable with lines of life so intertwined in sacred embrace that depth itself has renounced all measurement as fool's play

We have joy between the consonants,

and laugh as we lay unseen beneath the metaphors,

our love an ocean too vast for syntax and structure, guidelines of grammar and printed page