Without Words

By: P.L.Reed-Wallinger

Without words, he comes in the night, when the world stills,

I don’t ask, it’s there on his face, what he thinks, what he feels.

Eyes closed, he runs his hand through my hair,

Breath hitching as the silky strands slide across fingertips.

Then he relaxes, burying his head on my breast,

And anguish slips away on a sigh, tumbling from his lips.

Without words, he draws me close, breath warm against my skin.

I don’t ask, I know what drives him, I’ve seen the struggle within.

Hard, strong hands roam, exploring heated flesh,

There’s unmitigated hunger in the gravel rumble of his moans.

And like fuel on a fire, unleashing the inferno within,

It rages, untamed and unchecked, melting every bone.

Without words, he meets my gaze, and I know, I understand his need.

I don’t ask, I’ve seen how he battles; watched him ache and bleed.

I give again, as I have always done, as I will always do,

One spirit, one heart, bodies merged—no beginning or end.

In this place, there is nowhere to hide, no deceit, no fear,

I see my lover, my protector, my soul mate.  I see…my best friend.

Without words, he pledges his life; unconditional love is proffered,

And I will accept, and offer as much back, all without saying a word.