The Reality of You

I feel your presence
from across our table --
your mass, muscle, momentum.

Your knee bumps mine,
sloshing my merlot;
your laughter conducts 
through wood, 
resonates my flesh, my bone.

Your delighted hum,
at the taste of a shiraz,
flexes your white neck
where I long to brush my lips
and feel your "Mmmm" mingle
with mine.

Your cut of knife through fork
sings across china,
gently shifts our table.
I lift my thighs,
brace them on the wood
and relish you moving me.

When your forearms shadow mine
I can't help myself.
I reach across, smiling
as your slender fingers
spread wide, accepting mine.

Your warmth soaks
through my hand,
thaws my veins,
lets me know I'm home,
that I've finally found you.

Scott Speck
05/25/2003