SPOONING

there is so much beauty when flesh collide
skin to skin touching
on a soft midsummer night
heads sprawled on silk pillowcases
slant beating of hearts
resonating as one
the moon-shaped metaphors
of partially-owned urges
remains as a steady balm
palms tighly clasped
united in a blasphemous
fetal-like bend

then there is that
kiss bestowed at the nape of the neck

how can i not miss you?