As we lay,
eyes heavy and bodies tired,
after hours of lustless intercourse with each other's souls,
I admire the smooth chocolate tone of your perfect complexion,
the tender, yet strong touch of your hands on my body,
the pupils of your deep brown eyes tell the story of a man,
My man,
God's gift.

As you kiss me,
the soft slither of your tongue parts my lips
and we connect
lip to lip
tongue to tongue
soul to soul.
I watch you as you rest,
heavy but steady breathing,
stretched across the bed,
and I think,
how could love be so
strong yet gentle,
so intolerant yet forgiving,
so intense yet innocent,
and I stare with amazed eyes at my love,
My man,
God's gift.

As I contemplate the box that constrains me,
the box that love surrounds,
the box with the glass ceiling,
I sit and wait,
lifting my heart to the top
where I can SEE love,
but can't quite TOUCH it,
FEEL it,
EXPERIENCE it,
CONVERGE it.
Still I reflect on the magnificent creation before me,
My man,
God's gift.....