These eyes see in the dark
but Picasso-like they only see fleeting images of you
in our soft-lensed youth.

These hands touch
in you the essence of my best years and yours;
memory caresses us
and its power keeps us as we were in the old photos
youth reveling in velvet arms.

You are so well known to me
yet still a mystery
and I have never known how
you do that.

You're the path
given me
to grow beyond myself
to experience 
breathless dollops where the soul melds
the sexual and the spiritual
where liberating excesses
kiss shuddering restrain
and then release.

We have together made the road we've traveled
with bed room eyes, intense desires
and summer nights
as we wrapped ourselves
around ourselves
melding
most times
gentle appreciation
and trembling
tremblings.