Making

If only
making love, a different thought
than what others considered
was,
then I would like to start by doing so
with you,
we could start by touching
our thoughts
feeling the beauty, the expanse
of our imaginations, what we can see
together,
we might just then take a gander
looking over each other
taking stock of what we see, within,
blindfolded, sitting, without words
to demand, or deceive,
I saw you, and you saw me,
without having to take our carnal desires
out for a try, on any dark night
in someone’s bed, with regret to follow
or guilt, or wondering if the other felt the same,
Making love to you
your image in my mind, my words being carefully
chosen, written upon my memory, saving them
for a rainy day, while we chanced upon a quiet space
drinking our favorite beverages, reading sonnets,
or, funny stories, which we had written when we were
younger,
Who we were back then, never knowing that love, the act
of which, the simple fact of not doing,
would find us
would find us,
in some tender embrace, our passing thoughts
felt to be appropriate
when thinking about,
making love to someone
like us….

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