Morning Song

(sestina)
  
The pillow rustle morning song  
That sings our breathing’s harmony  
My want to wake you with my touch  
And raise in you that lively will    
That seeks to gain our common wish,  
That one embrace, our passions’ crave.  
   
My hands, denied their moistened crave,    
That spot once found that brings your song  
In tones to raise your morning wish  
To cross our paths in harmony,  
That both our truths revealing will,  
Seek verdant space in heated touch.  
   
For mouths may stir with wonders' touch,  
But mouths can only whet the crave,    
And strengthen drive that bends the will,  
Increase the meter of the song,  
And want reprise in harmony,  
For hands and mouths won't fill our wish.  
   
In harder work and sweat, we wish,  
With muscles’ strain in common touch,  
Our move and pace the harmony,  
Those grips and slides that sate our crave.  
In wordless runs that build our song,  
We strike those notes that blend our will.  
   
So find that place between us will  
Grace wanted spot that grants our wish.  
Crescendo, con vivo, our song,  
A race, where every nerve we touch,  
That rush to bring release we crave,  
Our bodies’ blend in harmony.  
   
Unbidden clutches, harmony,  
Unbidden shudders gasping will,  
Bringing the end force of our crave,  
Baptise in other’s flowing wish.  
With every seize and pulsing touch,  
Our bodies now our truest song.  
   
How much I crave to fill this wish,  
That harmony of deepest touch  
Will bring awake our morning song.