The night is flush with energetic love;
a hurried car begins to disembark,
illuminated by the moon above.

The dim o-th dash (no more than just a spark)
assists the driver's eyes to see the way
afar, behind the vast horizon's dark.

How burdensome the trek, be as it may,
for it unfolds beyond the interstate
and keeps this lustful mania away.

Anticipating that which lies in wait,
these thoughts, they race with every passing sight,
inspiring the heart to palpitate.

The landscape, bathed in lunar candlelight,
a field of azure mists and roads twilit,
transforms the car into a plane in flight.

Enveloped by the fog and clouds moonlit,
the vessel continues to fly and soar
until, at last, the city's edge is hit.

Descending on that cement corridor
and gliding through the traffic signal lamp,
the soul inside sustains its eager roar.

A few more blocks through roadways wet and damp
before approaching houses wrapped in shade,
the car arrives, quiet not to tramp.

A darkened window's curtain barricade
ignites with glowing incandescent blooms;
the drapery parts for a smiling serenade.

Their pulses thunder hard in whispered volumes;
one up, one down, the lovers rush with haste,
embracing fast among the nightly perfumes.

A kiss, a grin, a hand upon the waist
communicates this waining self-control;
their bodies are averse to remain chaste.

They rush inside, the bedroom is the goal,
removing clothes until they are undressed,
pursuing naked body, naked soul.

They are complete when crowded chest to chest,
a moving sculpture, crafted of two parts,
their carnal desires being fully expressed.

Conjoined by sex until their climax departs,
the silence comes; they sparsely speak a word,
in breaths, erratic like their beating hearts.
 
Two lovers drift to slumber, undiscovered.