Reaching upwards out of the void of sleep,
I feel the brushing of your finger tips
caressing the soft curve of my breast.
Your warm breath chasing the coolness of morn
as your lips hover barely above mine.

Smiling slowly my body awakens
stretching, responding to your beckoning touch
reflecting back to times in your embrace.
Your hand firmly stroking the embers glow,
feeding the white flames of consummation.

Lips parting, exploring your mouth with mine,
your morning stubble reddening my skin
intensifying the caress of touch.
Fingers reaching up to pull you closer
desiring your weight upon my length.

Eyes slide open to awaken your soul,
the smile fades as hands clutch empty air.  The curtains flutter in the early dawn.
Warm spring raindrops brings promises to lips,
my thumping heart slowing to the rhythm.

Your lingering scent upon my pillow,
your taste on swollen lips, fading from reach
as my illusion of you is scattered.
The webs of memory clinging tightly
while reality crowds the image of you,
forsaking me until the next time.

June 2000,   Written by Cloudwalker

There are those that enter our lives and leave not only illusions, but part of themselves that echo down through the years.