Beanie, a new friend sent me this poem for Valentine's Day, when two lovers are sadly separated by distance:
THE NEED
This day, it's much more than desire.
It's something I require.
The longing seethes:
I feel its pressure
deep inside me. Some
impending flood
from out of my heart
to surge its way through me
until it crests -
emptying into
the passage her love
has opened.
But she can't absorb the flow
she nurses out of me,
because of the distance
between us -
or feel the tremors
that only her touch can bring,
or see how her loving determination
brings me past the boundaries
of fulfillment
into nurtured ecstasy.
That need never lets go.
On this stormy day, it comes
with every gale, and
rains onto me in
urgent bursts - as
intense as the pleasure
her love needs to
bring to me.
Instead I have this picture
that shows me
what my palms imagine
they are filled with:
the soft, willing, unflinching
curve just above her thighs
but that doesn't show
what my mouth is tasting,
in its imagination,
as it does my heart's work
for me where she's most
vulnerable to my love.
The need exceeds even the distance
between us. It exceeds the
pain of all my disappointments
and all the lust of all my
past debaucheries.
This time it's a Valentine.
The finest work of Cupid;
his gift to me: That I exist
solely for her pleasure,
to fulfill her, to be part of her,
gripped tightly in the
slick, warm, and throbbing
shelter of her need:
that need of hers
she needs for me
to fill: that common need.
Our need to love.
~ Anonymous
