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In the beginning there is always
a sharp stirring of rapture

From the first moment,
when a simple locking of gazes
caused beating hearts to swell
like the coming of the tides,
she knew the taste of his lips
and the sweet scent of his skin.

In the beginning there is always
an excruciating charge of passion

Before he came to her,
slow and delicately persistent,
hands encircling her waist,
fingers finding those perfect places
to apply soft pressure to her flesh,
she knew the words he would whisper
and the timid way his tongue
would dance with her own.

In the beginning there is always
the sweet sense of disorientation

Perhaps from the realm of sleep,
dreams became premonitions
that led her to him that day,
on a sidewalk of cobblestone
in a city she'd never visited,
where sunshine rested on wanting skin
and two beings passed beyond
the confines of reason and logic
to find a moment that would last forever.

Learn more about this author, Sarah Williams.
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