In the Dark and Peaceful Quiet

Do not go, not yet. Stay with me here yet a while longer in the still dark warmth of our bed.

The eager world can wait its biding time to bring us what it will, but for now, stay.

Let us make this bed and these soft blankets our world and these bodies will be the earth

And sea that we will explore, here, together, in the dark and peaceful quiet of our morning.

Come closer and join your warmth in with mine and I will make you to forget a little while

And climb the warm mountains of your breasts with my intrepid hands and lips.

Let us roam the dark forests and deep valleys of this land and swim the depths of our wet seas,

For I am more curious about the bursting curves of your body each morning

And find new mysteries written beneath your skin each day. I want to ride your

Swelling oceans and slip into the lathered foam of your waves. I will learn every

Turning of the path of your body and chart the map of you with my hungering eyes.

I will study for a lifetime in the sacred script of your flesh and meditate in the temple of your heart.

Let us take the measure of each other, here in the darkness, and attend to the knowledge of our land

Before the sun rises and calls us each to our way, for we have not yet quenched our thirst

Of each other or broken the fast of our day and I would not send you forth without

Satisfying your every hunger. Turn aside with me now and let us drink soft and deep,

One of another, for I thirst more for the sweet and wet deepness of your body each day.

Search me for my secret places among the tall and blooming grass and I will touch the

Spreading petals of your flower with the tips of my fingers and the kisses between our lips.

From your soft pink blossom I will coax the sweet nectar like the bee that makes the honey

And ply the warm, wet bed of your garden with all the skill and tools of my husbandry.

Let us carve out and capture this time while the world still sleeps and repair to each other

In this dark pavilion of our love, for now is the time that we fix the torn and tumbled things,

The stone walled fields and fences that the world’s storms have worn and weathered.

Now is the time for the gentle press of our bodies together, the time of the soft and soothing

Sounds, of breath and hearts in our ears, a sound of such utter peace and beauty

As we are made perfect and whole, complete in ways that defy all explanation of words,

That can only be touched upon the long, soft edges of our embraces or seen in the peace of these eyes,

Heard in the gentle rumble of such satisfied sighs and felt in the quiet depths of our hearts.

Eric M. Petit