When within you my inner landscape bursts
I am both giving all of me to you
and lavishly loving the way you birth
me in reverse (your cardinal virtue).
All of you. All of me. Floating and free
as through your labyrinthine temple doors
a fleshly part of me pampers your needs
while all my hearting hugeness heaves and soars.
And yet I hardly have your full depths plumbed:
Even the ecstasy deeper things masks.
Something vast and largely untouched then comes
to pass, eclipsing my post-coital gasps.
If only I could keep this fleeting bliss
in heaven wrapped up with an angel’s kiss.
© 2011, Alan Morrison