Touch of the Dragon

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The dragon’s kitchen, ancient spices full

I choose food, you teaching me.

Without notice, your touch slides down my back.

Delicate, barely a touch — more your fingers verse.

Which says — honey, I’m hungry for your lips.

In the calm of the day on the castle wall

The golden dragon landed

This image is your true nature.

*

Under the snowy mountains,

who takes and gives lives by a marvelous nature of her own.

Made of eternal oak wood and volcanic stone.

I was created for you — to your liking.

To be your water cradle.

My chest to be your headboard.

*

You were made for me.

From the gentle birch

and elegant cherry.

In a silver cradle surrounded by flowers.

And with the dragon’s heart to be my soul guardian.

*

Our nest in the stone chamber.

Drums of fire from underground.

Passion music carries our bodies.

I fly with a dragon because our bodies are one.

Everything is open and flowing naturally.

Thought, speech, touch, sigh, the cry of love.

*

In the timeless green of your eye

I lose myself; I feel your touch down my back again.

Barely a touch — it’s more a bite of passion.

I see a flower garden planted on the Island of Love.

All created out of our sighs.

When I leave this world

I’ll take just a picture of your touch.

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