Candle light flickers
send soft shadows
To dance amongst the memories of you.
In quiet solitude
I sit, with quill in hand,
senses caressed by reflective visions
swirling
behind closed lids.
I
inhale the aroma of rich, oily wax
--
tickling my throat, filling my lungs --
breathing
in the fragrance of our love.
Time...no longer
my adversary...
Takes me back to a place,
moments not long passed,
Where you asked...no...pleaded...
to forever share
your life,
to join you in
a formal union of heart and soul.
The evening was high...
Pinpoint stars,
peering curiously
through the skylight
window...
As we lay together amongst slippery bubbles
of warm, musk
scented clouds.
Like the stars above,
Tiny flames twinkled
in a circle of mirrors,
casting
illusionary, endless images of forever
reflected
by hanging crystals
into
looking glass walls.
Slowly and deliberately
we began to bathe,
purifying ourselves
for each other,
Cleansing away the ash of misbegotten fires
and soiled, sloven memories...
Rinsing away ruinous sidements of mistrust
and shattered hope...
With a well-lathered,
feather-light sponge
we took turns dancing in tempid waters,
Cleansing each other
with smooth and somber passage,
Bringing
tender, graceful touches
to
every inch of flesh...
...soaping
and rinsing...
...rinsing and nibbling...
at heated
bodies, sparkling with a fevered,
yet gentle glow.
Our
skin...appearing as dewy petals
in a soft spring shower...
candles masquerading as tiny suns
giving a warm light
to flesh
the teasing touch of water droplets,
like warm raindrops,
sliding
across our bodies
as
they responded to the heavier
but
no less tender touch
of
each other's hands.
Hands wanting nothing more than to awaken
and convey total, consuming love.
Mirrors
became misty from the water's warmth
and the passionate energy
of its enraptured bathers.
Reflecting back, in
our candlelit eyes,
veiled images of ourselves...
An image blurred,
appearing more of one body than of two.
I pulled
close to you,
my legs wrapped about your waist
feeling the heat from your body
merging with my own
and settling inside the tender aspects
of my thighs.
Unspoken
thoughts of one mind are shared
Through the mirrors of the soul
Knowing now we are ready, we are cleansed,
and exclusively deserving of each other.
No longer two separate elements
or members of love,
but one conjoined and synchronized
bodily miracle of God...
(Please
marry me...)
Moisture
now from inside the soul
Seeps gently against its windows
Glowing from behind the eyes,
dancing softly on tips of eyelashes,
We hold
tight...
(Of
course I will)
...I
remember the words,
whispered dreams of that night,
A renewal of essence and innocence.
A beginning of bonded, eternal love.
A dance so beautiful, no quill can capture
my own laying limp in my trembling hand
How
of this will I ever write?

By:
Sharon Angleman
(primary author)
&
Alan W. Goodson
(minor editing)
©1999
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