Surrender

I would cup
your face
in my hands
and stare into
the caress of night
that hides musically
in the softness
of your dreams.

I would stroke
your cheek
with my fingers
and pulse into
the tone of honey
that blushes deliciously
in the warmth
of your blooming.

I would kiss
your eyes
with my lips
and explode
into the bouquet
of dawn
that tempts irresistibly
in the calm
of your wanting.

Drew A. Foster