In our sleep we make love,
as if Hypnos, God of Slumber,
were a voyeuristic mapmaker,
marking tantric nighttime tracks for us to follow in the dark;
as though Eros, God of Love,
sung to us from the blue-black wilderness,
and we, in that waking moment,
allow ourselves pulled by his impassioned plea.
My heart never pumps harder than when I come
to consciousness at your trailblazing touch,
the tha-thud-tha-thud-tha-thud
beating against my chest
like the balled-up fists of hungry armies
banging
at Ares’ command.
Beyond midnight and time,
our rhythmic movements together are enough
to bring deities
down from their mountain,
down to their knees,
making myth
as unnecessary as dream

Quite hot, hot, hot

in one endless nightlong sexual kiss

Thank you (((pkd & H )))

WOW, I only wish I could do THIS in my sleep and remember it,lol...
Very moving in its depths of feeling and sharing.
really....lol