If it weren't for that perfect fit

breasts to my chest;

if it weren't for those perfect lips

mine to yours

I'd not be so in love with you.


If it weren't for your flower-petal voice

those summer breeze yearning eyes

my summer heart

would not have blossomed so.



Absent my throbbing center

and yours matching

we'd not have sailed

to ectacy's edge

but we did;

such that without even touching

we evinced

these and more.


So speak to me in my Bed's Night

imagination plumb

and remembering

fantasy blended

till

there is no separating

dreams and the real

and this is perfection's tip
penetrating

Breathing me and I you

lungs filled with

that that perfect mix

estacy

remembering

and dreaming you

is all any person needs
because bodies

make no subtle

distinctions

between dreams and the real

in the three am hours.

Lonnie Hicks

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-dream-feels/