We touched in the silence of a recreated night Our voices were murmurs lost in the forest dark And the silence of our feet was as the silence of the sea. We pressed on through the night which wove itself around us Your soft hands were warm in the clutch of my fingers And there was the sound of silver-throated birds Echoing around over us. We walked on through the fallen leaves And tripped over lurking branches There was no moonlight to guide us Only the lonely shooting stars It was cold; we pressed closer The warmth of your waist in my palm You naked scalp breathed cinnamon The taste burning lightly in my throat And rain began to fall about us Soaking us 'til the cloth was almost melded to the skin. I felt the warmth of your life The pounding blood in your veins under my fingers And heard the catch in your breath. I kissed you then. And then there was silence and more silence, and the copper taste of blood And the weight of your body in my arms And the petal softness of your thighs The taste of you, the touch of you, the quiet carvings of your nails The deep smell of your open sex And the drops of rain I kissed off your heaving breast. There was the warmth of creation, The steady pounding of new life We mingled lips and limbs and locked Our bodies and were one And together in our passion Together in our set desires We celebrated the God of Spring.