The Stranger

 

Dark eyes, darker than blood;

Smiling lips that curl upward in a fatal sickle,

Coming to sweep me away in your words,

your speech of smooth, silken honey

sliding over my body like velvet hands.

 

Bold hands, with exploring fingers

that touch my lips,

my face,

my throat,

my shoulders,

my arms.

 

Strong arms, insistent

that wrap around me, warm and protective

and tell me with touches louder than voice

how you feel about me,

how much you want me.

 

Your voice, deep resilient waves of sound

whispering words into my ear,

whispering,

“I love you,”

“Te quiero,”

“Je t’aime.”

 

My heart quickens to that voice—

I know it well,

from dreams long forgotten

(or so I thought)…

But do I know you?