Desire is No Sin

Veiled in silk,

she slips into my room,

drifting opalescence,

to the verge of my bed,

ethereal epiphany...

I whisper,

“Please, come sit next to me”.

Innocent, mysterious,

she settles lightly by my side,

eyes reflecting the candle on the nightstand,

a ribbon of shimmering crimson

forms a demure smile

tethering my gaze to her radiance.

I am captive as her eyes prowl,

not content,

need bringing shortness of breath.

The mystery of longing intrigues me.

Her Catholic-curious voice whispers:

“Did you know, Saint Augustine said,

'Desire was a sin?'”

She is somber.

I inquire,

“Yes, and?”

Her kiss

       like a snowflake

                 floats

                        softly

                                to                 

                                   my

                                        mouth...

.

I catch it, let it melt,

feel the moisture, sensual texture,

collect the sweetness with my tongue.

Then, her touch, a single slender finger

drawn along my cheek,

along the rim of my ear lobe,

etching her name leisurely,

carefully across the curve of my neck,

shoulder and firm bicep.

She fans her fingers,

strokes my chest, grazing each nipple,

her palm brushing dark hair,

pressing firmly into the muscle beneath.

She speaks,

“I love to touch your strength."

With an open hand I draw her hair back

unveiling an iridescent smile,

engage her eyes, softly

compress the delicate strands in my fist

and draw her gently toward my awe.

Connecting body to mind, soul to kiss…

her spontaneous confession spills forth,

“I desire you”,

her serious eyes stab the candle light

and she continues,

“But what if my passion is a sin against God?”

Cautiously I respond,

“Lover, what if your passion Is God?”

end/michael