Lover’s fingers trace a path over warmed skin.
She is like a billowing sail as her wind caresses her.
There is just the here and the now…the sensation.
It is a blessed void, an uncommon peace.
They fall into their rhythm of forgetting and cherish the silence in their minds,
though their bodies speak volumes.
It is a dance that both numbs and makes one alive.
It consumes and drives away all rationality.
But they do not care.
Still, they dance on.