I saw her again this very night

Between the books written by moonlight.

Her form, not perfect but original, like sin,

Strewn on my bed with pearls entwined,

With her parted red lips, like auroral bonfires.

I see that space between her heart and mind

For that is where the feral desires obey

the soft command of each other's truth.

As we kiss each others vulnerable scars,

We learn each others deepest needs,

We share in the seduction of each others heart

And we begin to live, in the gift of abundance