© Sauce*Box, Summer 1998. All rights
revert to author.
Fulfillment
by R. Dean Ludden
No concept of dimension
penetrates the darkness
which surrounds
this 36 square feet of universe
we call our own
Our flesh enlocked
as single entity
I hurl a sigh into your throat
and have it echoed back
Unseen outside
each millimetric tremble in my body
is a crashing tidal wave
against the stony precipice of our desire
and echoed back
Every minute thrust of body
every subtle undulation
echoed back
Such sweetness given
as nourishment to bring
invasion of your body with my own
and always echoed back
your womanhood
a feather in deflection
of a comet's path
but you will echo back
A cosmic highway
of advance, return, a thousand times
Until the Now!
Again, the Now!
and still you echo back
Exploding stars and searing galaxies,
this echoed echoing
precedes our rest,
subsiding only with the daylight sleep
and speeding to the dawning
of ecstatic night.
* * * * *
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