If I were to be honest all I need is what I am.
So why do I long for her, her taste, her touch

her sex? Simply knowing that I could…
ought now to be enough. But I do not want

only to remember her warmth, her kiss
her skin, her smile, her playful laughter.

What I want is to relive those first few weeks
months, hours, days, when there was nothing

in the world that mattered more
than to be together. When our embrace

broke the hearts of lovers not yet born
and we took what we each had to give

as if it were a child, to grow with us.
All I need is what I am. I am that child in her.

She is in me. I cannot forget. I even remember
the shapes of the bedclothes each morning

as if our every movement were captured
in their soft folds, mounds and crevices.

And I remember the voice of the singer
who sang to the bonding of our muscles

and limbs, matching the rhythm, and sang again
the day we parted, releasing each other for good.

© Steve Walter
Art of Love Exhibition, February 2004. LondonArt.co.uk

All I need