Dark Blossoms

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We blossom in darkness,
love’s most ancient light,
opening and unfolding our
separate selves,
awash in shadows cast
by moonlight through
a stand of trees outside your
bedroom window
 
Our bodies ripen with a touch,
wandering kisses flick salt
out of dry sweat, lips brush lips,
tongue finds tongue—there is a
mouth for every inch of skin,
and slowly we become bridges
across every river of loneliness,
connecting separate sorrows
in a union consecrated with sweat
and musk.
 
No one talks of happy endings or of
saving something for tomorrow.
There is only this night, colored by
longing and moonlight.
 
I was not the first to read the map of
your body, confusing directions with
promises, but I have stayed the longest.
 
And each time I return, I feel like a
pilgrim who has traveled beyond
the crossroads of longing and desire
to reach a promised land.
Anoint me with the healing waters
of your love, and I will bow down to
you and gently kiss the pearl of great
price that I have sorely missed.