Afterwards,

When all the spectators have dispersed,

When the last crow sung its morning call,

When migrant workers marched on,

When heaven came to meet the horizon,

When your open heart became available,

It’s when I kneel,

hold, kiss, and touch

and become the man

of your half.

So, declare your honesty,

Let the silent heart speak,

For I have been listening.

Afterwards,

Beneath the stars,

We’ll make love by the Mediterranean.

© 2006 David Greg Harth

06.07.21.02:37:36@296NYC