First Date

they sit in the last row of the darkened musty theater

safe from cold prying eyes

safe from the world outside the door

watching raven angels with torn wings on a white screen

speak words they mouth to each other

or wish they could

feeling emotions they thought were dead and taken by the dark ones

long deflated hearts filling up with life again

they entwine like norse deities

the whole world composed of the others arms

not daring to ever part

silent pathos pours between them

spilling onto the gray stone floor

the maroon seats become parts of their collective anatomies

redemption coming from Her eyes

not angels or saints

for she is far more ascended and real in his eyes and heart

Her hair like cimmerian sea

smelling of botanical treasures and spring buds

head held to his chest like an innocent child

melting together in metamorphic ardor

as they listen to the choirs as the sun comes up

he looks at Her with warmth and devotion

frightened that if he moves this will all prove a wondrous dream

one of which he wills he would never wake from

he fearfully touches the sheer softness of Her cheek

She does not waver or flicker

Instead the supple roseate of Her lips parts to reveal a blissful smile

and soon yields to a gentle yet impassioned kiss

feeling Her heart beat in Her lips and tongue

taste of sweetness and light

of the true beauty of her sex long forgotten

angels fall to merely dream of touching such a one as She

and they would find far more rapture in her arms then ever in heaven

the rapture he hoped would never stop