When Summer and Winter Were Lovers

With downcast eyes you whisper,
'This is too much;'
but I know the most intimate act,
between a man and a woman,
is to have him take your hand,
and lead you through a crowded room.

You trace your fingers down my wrist,
as you draw me around the twisted throngs,
of careful on-lookers,
locked into their own tragic romances,
slipping shiny little glances at other parts of the room.
This heated night touches our skin,
and we pine for Summer's last days.

Glitter falls from the ceiling and lights upon my skin,
as you wrap yourself around my form,
in rhythm with this tribal beat;
a thousand feet pound the floor,
shaking the false columns of a lost Babylon.
I rewrite this Odyssey sinking into the ocean of your arms,
with my eyes half closed and your lips upon my neck.

This room is full of nymphs turning their bright eyes to us;
in a winking moment of tantalizing breath,
a two-sexed goddess controls the air around the stage,
and all eyes cast upon her;
but your lips remain upon my neck,
and your hands stray down my hips,
playing out the beat of your lust.

When we flee this room,
full of the beating hearts of breathless dancers,
and slip into the darkness of the city,
stealing down the back streets of dimly lit houses,
you stop me and kiss me under a tree,
dripping in the last vestiges of Summer.
You run your hands under my dress,
caressing your way to your own desires.
I feel Fall creeping cold hands into my hair,
and the wind begins to blow from the North.

This big bed is where I am undone,
and slip into a troubled sleep.
You stand in the corner and whisper,
'This is too much;'
I can feel the Fall turning my skin damp,
dieing leaves caught up in my hair,
all passion leaking from me as the Summer vibrates on and on.
I can feel the new Winter now not far,
crying to the dawn in a hushed voice.

They were once lovers as we are,
the Summer, ever bright and the Winter, darkening,
Summer kissing the glistening snows of Winter's soft hands,
Winter's frozen breath grazing Summer's warmed cheek.
But they never touched,
never found paths beyond emptiness,
and broke themselves,
as I have broken myself on the glass in your heart.
I watch your sad eyes as I turn on,
into this blinding dawn of dieing Summer's last wish,
for the Winter neither of us can have,
and the Fall that always keeps us apart.