Drawn by the pull of possibility
I am at war with resistance
tempted by persuasion and the
dynamic momentum of hands
on taut shoulders
the gravitational press on tangled
knots and willowy limbs that bend to
a black spell night
your kiss is kindle igniting
the perfect fire
Come dawn I am a periwinkle
at your pillow
tender petals bending to what
is golden.

art by Andre Belinchenko