In the middle dark
the passages stand open,
and the choice of when to go
The slumbering horde
in groans and sighs lays whispering,
breath erupts in sudden gasps and nods,
and the sleepless few
move with silent, careful steps.
This is when I think of you
and all you’ve meant to me.
For now we do our separate dance,
face risks alone, advancing as we do,
wrestling beasts and wresting joy.
You, small warrior,
with the silk-draped hip and breast,
turn to me and wrap yourself
around my nakedness,
as though to wish me on my way
with stores of sweet, a sip of rich desire,
to carry on to where I dream of next.