By David Roth
8 September, 2003
Lying quietly in the still of a darkened room
The wayward glow of a moonbeam
Illuminating the place by your side
Hearing the gentle rhythm of life
In the rise and fall of her breast
In the soft passing of air through her lips
Feeling the touch of her skin
As fingers touch and intertwine
The brush of skin against skin
Knowing that this is love
Love as it was meant to be
Love in its fullest
Not in the warmth of softly spoke words
Nor in the torrid heat of passion
But in the lingering sense of belonging
Felt in her embrace
