When Two Are One Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

When Two Are One



He was enthralled,
attracted to her heat
and to her heart,
could not explain it though
in simple human speak.
They'd met, somewhat by chance,
and nodded, as if in unison,
she took his hands
and planted a moist kiss
right onto doubtful lips,
she tied his hands or so it seemed
behind her back,
and let his fingertips descend
to her delicious crease
while pressing forward
gently with her loins,
he felt her cheek
she'd be complaining soon
about the coming whisker burn,
and then her tongue, saliva wet
probed into lips to open
and to venture deep inside,
and finding his;
it had been long,
too long
since early days,
when dormitories meant
you'd snatch a fleeting kiss.
They slobbered now,
or so he thought,
saliva flowed
and dribbled,
where he caught it
on her upturned chin,
he licked her face
in case there were
more drops
to mop and claim his own.

They spent the day, again
and met
clandestine like,
two eager spies,
down by the river
where the boaties meet,
an angler,
armed with silly tools
would stand and try
to catch a simple fish,
by reeling in
and casting,
endlessly,
as if this dull routine
could ever fool a fish.
They found a spot,
checked for the usual ants,
preferred a bit of shade
which soon was found,
at the conclusion of
a search for parks
which only took them
here,
then there,
then here again,
as if this dull routine
could find
the perfect nest.

Well armed with rugs
and drink,
sandwiches made
with loving hands
at home,
of Latvian Liverwurst
and Lockyer Valley Camembert.

They kissed of course,
and touched
and talked
which seemed to be
all due at once,
she fed him
and he licked
her fingers
as she offered them,
it was a heat
that threatened to consume
perhaps all rationale,
scent of a woman
on his lips,
his cheeks
and now applied
to where it ought to go,
saliva bathed his eyes,
hands cradled
and the rise was felt,
though time
his fickle felon's mate
would be constrained,
they'd be two connoisseurs,
and slowed the pace,
by tasting all,
and moving back,
and forth
then in and out,
but just a teasing inch,
whereby he reassured
that there would be
no little fishes
making it,
into the trusted place,
they'd keep
a proper distance
though would brush
and stroke
the entrance to her cave,
and move,
while lips
would baby-like caress
the twins,
who also had been touched
by dew from deep within.

Then they would rest,
his was the thigh
between her legs
and touching
just enough
to signal to
the pubic bone,
which he explained
was called the symphysis,
a proper name
not doing justice though,
and this he knew.

They'd talked,
and touched on many themes,
though shyness did still hang
about, this was their real life
and not the phone,
or Googlemail,
she'd brought his list,
the one that they decided
not to send to Santa,
as it would have brought a halt
to holidays for all.

She loved him,
that was clear
and it was love
that fell on them
when tiny drops of rain
were sent
by unknown angels,
that premier night
down by the boardwalk's moon.

She'd readily agreed,
the list was fine
and he could sense
her awe,
well hidden right behind
a clear curiosity,
they'd snuggle close
and he would watch,
at least a single time,
and when she came
would be there, free
and ready to take in
all that was given
in the fiery heat
of lava flow,
he'd waited all his life,
and had been coy,
he would not talk
to mates,
or long-haired friends
about his wish,
the longing would
he reckoned,
heal the wound at last.

He knew he would not sleep,
that night
and when it came
he would be high on scent,
and bathe his palate
and his trusted tongue
until the earth was doomed
or the Grim Reaper
called him home.

She did not drink,
as such,
but had a taste
for Cabernet Merlot,
it mixes well
and leaves no stains
inside,
he helped her find
a very private place,
where there was peace
and ample time,
and opportunity,
as well as ambiguity,
inside their dizzy minds.
They had decided
when the raindrops fell,
that theirs was one huge heart
shared by their love,
that speech would be
the lifting of a veil,
and that they'd know
the tasks,
why questions still remained,
that there would always be
an obligation of sheer honesty,
so when she crouched
he kneeled behind
and held her naked thighs
to be there
close, forever close
and there they shared
and they were one,
just simply one.

For My Gem

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