Aqualung's "Strange and Beautiful"

You'll fall asleep--
I'll put a spell on you.
And when I wake you,
I'll be the first thing you see
And you'll realise that you love me

Forgive me if I didn't sleep at all

by Ewong Martines

while I lay there beside you,
for I had rather relished the sight
of your slumber: ever beautiful
and tranquil, as if innocent
     of this crime
               of this night.
The slits of your eyes,
woven with lovely lashes
of a desert goddess, closed in
on the harsh light of day.
You drooled while dreaming
an outrageous adventure—
you had taken me again
     to that realm
               called heaven
even by atheists. And yes,
you were snoring,
but it was a song so pure
it conjured the rainbow
after a typhoon. My fingers
mapped your summer skin,
and the wild tigress turned
into a stray kitten in the streets
of my heart. Your lips
I kissed,
     nibbled,
               tasted,
then I, too, succumbed
to the clamor of
     sleep tight and
               sweet dreams.
Your face—my final
memory, mesmerizing—
every pore,
     every hair,
              every line,
the picture to which I whispered: I
wish you were mine.

"The Embrace" by W.N.

Vienna Teng's "Eric Song"

Strange how I fit into you
There's a distance erased with the greatest of ease
Strange how you fit into me
A gentle warmth filling the deepest of needs

Asphyxiation

by Ewong Martines

I imagine us together
trapped under this warm,
furry blanket; our bodies
naked, sweaty, arms
and legs tangled.
In strange synchrony
we shiver, the pulse
of a caged bird waiting
in vain to be freed.
In blinding pleasure
we moan. Wrestle
gracefully. Wander
like the nocturnal waves
of the Pacific. Fluids flow
flesh to flesh, droplets
forming letters to plead:
"Oh Sun, please don't come!"
Our tongues locked in each
other, we gasp deliriously
for air. But we'd rather
suffocate in this musky,
forbidden affair.


revised version:

Us trapped I imagine 
               under blanket furry
               warm; naked and sweaty 
               our bodies, tangled legs 
and arms.
In strange synchrony shiver 
               we: pulse of a caged bird 
               waiting, waiting in vain 
to be free.
In blinding pleasure moan 
               we: like waves nocturnal 
               of Pacific wander. Let’s 
wrestle furtively.
Flesh to flesh 
               flow fluids; droplets form 
               letters, plead: "Oh Sun, 
must not come!"
Locked our tongues 
               in each other—O how we gasp 
               for air! But choke together               
               we'd rather in musky 
mad affair.


*Artwork: "Embrace" by Deborah Howard