Spelunking.

Here is where we find each other.
the forty-two acre landscape,
dotted by pine trees,
scarred from coals and
ash-covered tree branches
charred by campfires.
empty beer bottles hidden in the
overgrown grass, a shallow river
running over rocks.
behind there is the cave,
our private door to exploration.
there in the dark,
mud stains our clothes,
our inhibitions left at the door.
Here is where we find each other.
dust covered fingertips intertwine,
our lips lock - breathing in
musty air and the taste of saliva.
only sounds of singing birds,
wind circling through,
reaches our ears as
our tongues speak lullabies
to each other in silence.
out here - nature is our haven,
away from it all, we become one.
Here is where we find each other.

Was weeding through some of my old writing and I found this poem... November 2008