Heads in Hands

(another poem from him, put here in my journal so I do not lose it)

Heads in hands,
we lay side by side,
resting on our haunches,
the curve of your hip accentuated.

Fingers teased the outline of our favorite parts
while we talked of conifold transitions,
we drew Feynman sum-over-paths on each other's skin,
until, seamlessly,
we moved to spoken truth and intimacy, to
arousal, and
entered
each other.
We fucked ourselves past ecstasy
to sleep.

At dawn, you stirred.
You had turned away from me
and I had captured the curve of your ass
in the muscled V of my loins.

I entered you from behind and we climbed
each other's bodies,
scaling ridges, ravines, glaciers and peaks with
sleep-driven energy.

Ohhhh, baby,
your voice crying out,
your mouth, shaping those sounds,
your breasts rising and falling as you launched your
dream into the percussive reality of the atmosphere.

Ahhhh, darling,
the intensity of my longing,
my joy,
an agony and ecstacy that I am about to channel,
like the master of a small vessel,
body thrown against the helm,
feet planted wide, gauging the swells and wondering at
their power
keeping the fragile bow
headed into the heaving swells of your flesh,
your rhythms, the sensations you invoke,
steering a course
through the storm of your sensuality
forcing the feelings you give me
through my
senses
my heart
my shoulders
my loins,
forcing them all with majestic power
into my fingers
channeling the agony and ecstacy I feel
into writing this.

Jesus, dearest,
how I long for you
and how hard I bend to my tasks,
knowing tomorrow we'll find a way to play.
Yes, tomorrow
will be
entirely
ours.
Arousal sends blood rushing to my suddenly
hard cock.

Back to work,
to long-neglected chores.
Your scent my companion,
your voice my goad.
In my mind I give you a kiss,
brushing your round, bare shoulder,
smiling,
knowing you will grow wet
as you read this.