all the centuries in one night

      
     
lying beside      
you      
     
watching you      
sleep in the      
quiet morning      
tide      
     
thinking of last      
night:      
     
your      
feel,      
     
your      
taste,      
     
your      
sound,      
     
your    
motion.    
     
how you gave      
yourself      
freely,      
     
how you gave      
in to yourself      
freely,      
     
the wine of your      
hair spilling      
over our      
faces.      
     
and all the centuries      
that came      
before,      
     
and all the centuries      
yet to come found      
their way to      
this one      
night.      
     
all the defeats      
wiped clean      
from the      
slate,      
     
all the victories      
became inert      
in this one      
night.      
     
and any words I      
write, nothing      
more than      
obvious 
hollow     
cliches.      
     
all I'm left    
with is:     
     
thank you,      
          Danielle.