A sigh in the night

In the numbing cold of this november night,
With emptiness around my left and right,
Thoughts of a night long since dead,
Of letters unwritten and words unsaid,
Ghosts from the misty fogs of time,
Rise unbidden, I forget constraints of rhyme.
Instead, I remember,
A night of howling winds, drenching rain,
Chattering crickets and a simmering fire,
Burning my insides, as you placed
A hand on my feverish simmering brow,
And your hair, dark as the inky night,
Shut out the world with a silken plea,
As slowly your lips descended and your face
Filled all the horizons lying before me.

I remember your body, taut as a string
Of a violin finely tuned, begin to sing,
Quivering with the touch of my fingertips,
The slightly salty taste of your descending lips,
The smell of your sweat mixed with mine,
In a heady brew of scented pine,
The melody of sighs that unbidden rose,
Through clenched teeth and lips half-close,
As the rains fell quiet and the crickets silent,
It was as if the shivering night was meant
To spread a sheet for the hymn of love,
As fate pondered and chuckled above.

Your sighs are still strewn around me,
Today in the dark night to keep me company,
Breathing along with the beats of my heart,
Pulsing in the dust of a string fallen apart,
Fragrant in the mouldy smell of yellowing letters,
Hiding in my dreams' shadowy contours,
Revealed in a sigh that escapes like a kite,
In the empty skies of this cold november night.