The Beard

I cried when he shaved it off.
The soft tickle of that beard
Caressing my cheek and neck
Could cause such an ardor to
Arise within my soul that
I dreamed of nothing else.

Sex is nothing compared to that beard.
Nothing compared to falling asleep on
His hirsute chest, lulled into slumber by
The soft lullaby murmur of his heart.
Slowly the dramatic beating of my heart
Matches the steady rhythm of his.

And this is oneness.
Two people, bodies entwined,
Hypnotized by the cadence of each other’s hearts.
Each raising the other to passion;
Each calming the other in warmth.
And when one stops, so does the other.