in this dream

you were on top
your mouth in an O
your eyes closed tight
your head thrown back
a shiver moving bright
through your body

and into mine
as an earthquake
ripples the ground
brings down buildings
I held your wrists as
you leaned back

searching for the
perfect angle into
the center of you
your skin in candle
light shining like
french porcelain and

the look on your face
could have been pain
but was not


© 1999 by
michael mcneilley