Without Regret

The summer night's
floating cloud of dreams
your body pressed against me
and sleep without regret
in the distance thunder is a voice beckoning
to the path between the senses

The brush whispers to the canvas
what it has found upon the palette
and reveals the secrets of the artist
so your secrets are revealed to me
in the damp of the sheets and your soft sigh
as I dream of you I dream a poem