The Night

Source. Pexels. John Rocha, Photographer

by Sue DeGregorio-Rosen, RN, CLNC. Contributing Editor


At night

in the stillness,

I hear the nightbird sing,

He sings the saddest song

Remembering when you kissed my lips,

when you stroked my hair.

Remembering how you would hold me close,

when the rain would fall

And the thunder would roar,

and I would shiver, 

I loved you then,

as you loved me…

how much love is enough?

Those nights when you gazed…

so far into my eyes

and I could feel you touch my soul, 

You couldn’t reach my spirit,

Our time together was fierce,

your touch was a spark…

that lit my feminine yearning,

Your sweat poured forth with passion,

when the night air was cold

Your being was intense,

as you walked through my door 

The nightbird’s song overwhelms,

without your presence

and I still search for you

in the dark of night,

I dream of your touch,

A touch so tender,

yet so demanding

I can still feel your heated thrust,

even if only in a memory

We had entered an uncharted place within,

orgasmic rhythms arrived unfiltered,

and brought us to the here and now,

a dream of a reality that lingers.