Clerestory

Warm breath, close lips,
an infinite that can be felt.
The skin anticipates the touch,
raising hairs and senses,
Anticipating the overflowing of egos
occupying the liminal spaces,
calling Thanatos and Eros
to dance under the crackling
of the ghost fire of our passions.

Nails meeting naked back,
teeth greeting flesh.
I no longer have any answers.
Thou art my clerestory,
Now letting all of my light in.