I am smelling your warmth,
Buried in your neck,
Veiled in aureate hair.
Under the crape myrtle
You and I are showered
By our mother moon-
Fuchsine buds fall and float,
We are flowers of the same stalk,
Tonight we bear witness
To one anothers metamorphosis
And like turncoat runaways
Take pleasure in the seizure of our essence,
Together, Divinity and disciple.

Jonathan Alford

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/courting-a-dream/