CLXIII

O take me, Lover, soon, into your arms,
where I, in your embrace, may well decide
commitment's based on no more than your charms
of warmth and tenderness. I'll soon abide

by what my heart-beat vows against your breast,
by what your lips will whisper in my ears,
while I, in union with you, find impressed
upon my soul, religion—lost for years.

And let the altar of this moment hold
the covenant of love for love's own sake,
beyond the dawn, whose day, when breaking bold,
might consecrate our dreams a bad mistake.

But if you'd hold me in your arms tonight,
then even God would grace us with good light.

 -Michael D. Petti  

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