The First Adventure
That shadowy entrance, subdued
glint, spark of eyes!
You trod all cultures with your
classic grace
Of posture, figure, profile
The breathy touch, so tentative,
The answering squeeze
All beams and tiptoes as we trod
Unspoken message:
“The dream’s come true”
The curtain nearly volunteered
To close itself.
I was poised to give the word;
Fired by our kisses, you took it
from my mouth
Each garment spoke surrender as it
fell
A flower-show of fabrics
Adoring those limbs which they had
covered;
Warm air on new divested skin
Near liquid in its heady density
Our bodies new-revealed, dreamed up
A gallery of art-figures,
Our mounting breath
Kindled their animation in our
honour
Those facing entities suffused with
mutual nourishment
The rising sun the backcloth of our
dual climax
The bathing epilogue
The farewell walk
A froth of blossom round our tender
steps
That fleeting perfection was the
purest art
Framed in an idyllic memory.
David Russell
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