Those Puddles Poem by Michael Walkerjohn

You
are my very
first… once again
that perfect stranger
though not a pretender
lay your head sweetly here
upon my shoulder, my dear…
and, allow me your tender smiles.
Fall completely into my kiss, and feel
the lusts, within this moment's spend
as ‘we' turn back the advance of time.
There exists no matter, no words, no
world… except this world of US…
And you, had better last! You
give up your strength, your
breath, your rage, your
age, your will… until
there is nothing
remaining of
you; and me
I greedily lap
up all; those puddles!