Words are to me
as a sword is to the soldier.

I speak and write the days
long campaigns in foreign lands,
an expert with my weapons,
lightly they swirl,
work their magic.

Here, with you,
I would lay down my arms
and sink into the grace
of silence; I would listen
to your voice, your breathing
and the beating
of your heart.

Open wide
I let your sweeps, your shapes
your panther movements
flow inside me,
there to warm and nourish.
fill my hunger,
old and cold.

And finally, I close my eyes
become the desert sands,
await your kiss
unfolding an oasis,
rich with colour,
rich with life.