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There is a strange softness about me on all sides,
a spirit I tuck around my mind with both arms, enveloping my ears with pure joy...
And I hear your name: Love-- in the dim light of a remembrance of loneliness, I cannot myself name...
I hear your name, and I respond like a man yearning for the bright beacon you are to me,--to hold the torch of your heart close, to guide me through the din of failed expectation...
I hear your name, and I sense the heat of it on the air around me, in the whispers of my own sensations, in the vividness of the bright full Moon--
lifted in the sky by my yearning, like a lamp to guide you to me.
Still! I sense the heat of what you now mean to me.
I call your name, to scroll this wild heat upon the tongue of my words of desire, to create my own atmosphere of your being, like a culminating cloud of humid, hot air building to a beautiful billowing of perfection--
a perfection of what you are to me morning, noon, and night...
You are rising from the earth of my arousal. I call your name...Love, knowing that the whispers of it at night while in bed alone will conjure up the image of your missed grace.
Love, I whisper, and I conjure you into my room, darkened by the absence of your presence...
Yes! I call your name, more than a whisper now, a pleading man strong in his conviction to have you close to him,
while you are now approaching in the dark, like a growing silhouette of unexpected pleasure in the unimagined image of your feminine outline.
I conjure you, and you feel my need; you have risen from the plume of the heat of my wanting you; you have come to help me free the bond of untold urgency, which strangles my sense of belonging...
I conjure you, and you come to me, and I cannot resist the first glimmer of your exquisite form--
I see the angelic woman's face, even in the bedroom's dark, and I am overcome with the brightness of your being, the light of your gentle soul that filters through your soft, glowing eyes.
I conjure you, and you approach me, the Oohhh so supple outline of your breasts dancing in tantalizing tangles in the sheer fabric of your night's gown, as you walk gracefully towards me.
I conjure you, and you are created of yourself; you have listened to the distant echoes of my sensual sea, and you walk upon the lonely, moonlit shore with me,
hand in hand, holding each other's need with the clasp of consummating lovers.
We have, perhaps, sensed this shore before, but have not bathed in its sweet, pale light with one another, as now.
The Moon glows upon this bed of our arrival, and you lay upon the shifting, sandy plane of my awaiting body.
You are instantly soft to me, a goddess of sensation causing overwhelming ache in my mind and loins.
I embrace you, fully atop me, holding on for fear that you will slip away, like the evaporation of a dream too good to be true...
I embrace you, hard, but not hurting--Hard! with the vigor of a man caught between the peak tide of his arousal and the compassion of a spirit that wishes only to have you close to him...
I embrace you incessantly, as you squirm now atop me, still not willing to release my firm hold for fear of losing you, yet responding to your writhing movements with lower swellings of my body's synchronous homage to you--
Yet... I feel your release, I cannot compel its ceasing, as you, like the liquid ebb tide, withdraw, downward, snaking my thighs with luxuriant lows and lulls of movement.
You are below my waist, surrounding my inner self with seduction of softness on the outer extremity of my volition's collapse.
I am with you, wanting, willing, wishing for my own release, unable to stop my arms from reaching, unable to stop my hands from grabbing, unable to stop my need from rushing... unwilling to betray the soft pillow I thought was you
compressed between my tensed legs, like Love
I conjured.

(Robert, the words in this poem are the most beautiful you have ever sent me !)