The stroke of your firm fingers through my hair. There’s a soft palm upon my brow as your heart beats my drum. Salt savored, compresses between our two exhausted bodies. Head to chest, thigh to thigh, mouth to breast. Drips of life trickle from giving places; both given one for another. I bask in your glory; tongue so gently pressed, in a lactose tolerant drink. The essence of expression, as overflow has flown. Niagara has made her fall. Sweet nectar fills the air as our minds drift away… … just one minute past ecstasy! Excerpt from "A Winter's Soulstice" by k. laBarron Copyright © 2001 Well of 7 Publishing. All Rights Reserved.