To walk beneath this weathered arch
and see what lies before me,
No longer crumbled sun bleached ruins,
These walls have taken shape yet again.
I never could really see what was really here,
Heaps and piles of ancient brick and mortar
Scattered precisely where they fell.
They’ve been reborn and been rebuilt,
all for only my eyes to see.
This ancient fantasy, come to life,
vibrant in my soul.
I imagine what it would be like:
To feel my hand upon your body,
My ear upon your chest,
To hear the strong and steady rhythm
of your heartbeat,
Inspired by nervous anticipation.
To draw my palm along warm skin,
To bring it softly to your face,
One delicious moment savoured,
Holding time just before our mouths should meet,
Tingling with nervous anticipation.
Drawing fingers gently from your brow,
Along familiar jaw I’ve never touched,
Breathing in our frozen moment,
This exquisite Zen suspended just before us,
Perfected by nervous anticipation.
Will this to last forever,
This magick moment before lips touch,
Dwell within this perfect pause,
And all will go on beyond this static place;
Complete, with nervous anticipation.