my front pressed to your back
arms tight 'round your waist
hair flying, hearts beating,
sharp mountain turns in a close lean,
roar of the cycle beneath us
finally, the top
'our' spot at the chasm
lying back on the leather seat,
motor still cooling
you unpeeled me,
your mouth already reaching my secrets,
shirt jammed on my head
'don't stop.
don't ever stop'
and
then my mouth searching yours
tongue tracing a map of old memories
a lone gray wolf loping across the highway
in search of his own mate
smiled at our lovemaking
sunrise! too soon
hurry! get dressed
get home
clothes on
back on the cycle
one last kiss, then
our bodies trailing our scent
all the way down the mountain
an aphrodisiac for the awakening wildflowers
Pris Cambell
Copyright 10/9/2000
Pencil Background: The Valley of the Roses by
Jan Toorop
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