The cuddling and soothing strokes of your maternal hand lulling me to sleep left my tender mocha skin decades ago. No longer needing nor desiring your touch to extinguish my consciousness til the morrow comes.
The intoxicating sensuality of love making conjure it's presence from time to time....only paling in comparison to the mere exhaustion of the act of living.
Often times...
Sleep is like an elusive labyrinth of mazes that hinder your escape from the dream state that goes along with the rejuvenation of the body I so desperately crave.
So, I seek you during the day when others toil and struggle with life's trivial pursuits. I don't envy the day walkers....for it is the night that solicits my presence like the beckoning call of a lover to his companion.
I rouse and come alive. Listening to the sounds that only the night possesses. Sounds held captive in it's infinite darkness.
I love the peace....My reasoning and logic are more coherent. Distraction has no place here. I can find myself during these hours
Lucidity flows in the Cimmerian shade.
