In a rush of breath
The loins long
For that tantivy moment
When you tumble
In a jumbled mass
Of limbs
And the mind only focuses
On what the body desires
While the heart's rhythm gallops
Down a convoluted tunnel
Aimed straight as a fox
On the supposedly sinful summit
Which awaits
Under straining muscles
Laced with gleaming sweat
Which, with the pinnacle
Becomes relaxed in repose
On satin material
Under the candle's soft glow

9-7-03
Laura R