The band is still playing
Even though some of the musicians are dead
The melody is unchanged
While the harmonies soar instead.
We dance closer than ever
Every pore receptive to the sentient certainty
Of the immortal accord of this love that cannot die
An immortal love that embraces this mortal union.
Your skin burns beneath my fingers
My tongue tracing poetry upon your body
Your ragged breath, the primal groan and your unerring gaze
A minor harmonic trio at the heart of this sensory symphony.
Our beings emptied, drained and refilled complete
Two parts of a single soul once again abounding
The past and the future crystallized in the perpetual moment
The present, an ubiquitous ideal; assiduous perfection.
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