Passion Passion rises, making fierce demands For two bodies' wandering hands Flaming lips that leave the unseen mark A trail of red-hot wetness in the dark Soft, warm, pliant, silky skin Will open to let firmness in Fingers touching the unknown Evoking blindest passion's moan Gently caressing the mysterious A fever-pitch to cries delirious Delicious, exquisite sweet sensations Fulfillment, after wild gyrations Explosive rush of pulsing fire Culminating mutual desire Finally, a heaving languid sigh Entwined in sleep, the lovers lie. by Dona Pearson 1/21/2000 Poetry