The Poetry of Us..

                                       
  Soft rain falls
outside windows
    left open
  to warm afternoon mists.
  no power, no phones
 just me
         and you
reading books of poetry
  to each other
       in the half light.
   A gentle breeze
 blows against
         my face
     but its your kiss
 at the small of my back
  that makes me shiver.
     I lose my place 
    in the book
 when the heat of your
   tongue brushes
   against my spine
  and all thoughts
     of reading
   slip my mind.
We push books
     and clothing
       aside
and find the poetry
    of each other;
each verse
  a sonnet
     of desperate whispers
rhythms of
   exquisite pleasure
every meter
   measured in moans
       and sighs
   and the sound
       of my name
on your lips...