In moments like these I remember your long, lovely blonde hair,
I muse on the fact that you came dressed in no air,
That your soft-rough intrigue of skin stretched over a frame so divinely prepared.
I chuckle at the persistent debacle we had with your intrusive fringe,
How much we both fought to get at each other’s necks,
How my teeth dug in and distantly caressed your flesh,
And that unintentional blessing and curse of a mark I left; a bruise tinge.
The best moments for me were the throes you disappeared into,
In those seconds you went between palming the wall and holding your forehead,
I felt the mirrored, overwhelming satisfaction as, from my tongue or hand, you momentarily fled,
And I celebrated with you as your thighs hugged my temples and almost split me in two.
Obsession I found in the bottom of your navel,
Like an insatiable foreign government I wanted to plunder it but guard it with forces; air to naval,
I circled it in a dance — psychedelic and trance-induced,
I sometimes took a step back, partially hoping to deduce what magic this was it produced,
But mostly groping for a semblance of sanity; fiddling with my noose.
You, though a darling for the night,
Stand for the immeasurable beauty of serendipity: the falcon’s catch mid-flight,
For the off meeting of eyes that stirs curiosity but never preempts guttural sighs,
For the times that you and I would always have liked but were never primed,
For this moment in which I shall inevitably decide,
To kiss you sweetly and make myself as much yours as I want you mine;
If only for tonight.
Yours in perpetuity,
Evans Mbora Campbell.
Darling for the Night