This is Love.

He stands solo,

in pitch black.

Still.

Silent.

Waiting.

White light slides in.

He catches it,

ready.

It flows over him,

bends across his jaw,

strings along his shoulders.

Hammers inside of him.

Empowering.

He lifts his eyes,

stares hypnotically into

blackness.

He breathes;

An ensemble of bodies

breathes with him

in rhapsody.

Waiting.

He pulls her to himself,

and begins.

She lays against him,

flat,

and he holds her.

Grips her head,

caresses her smooth neck.

Runs calloused fingers

up her body,

down her body.

And then,

they are

alone.

In tune.

Intertwined.

They crescendo,

boost the rhythm.

He strokes…

she hums.

Harder—

she wails.

Sharply.

For him.

He knows how to play her.

And then,

he rests.

She quiets.

Still.

Silent.

He lowers her down.

Bows.

White light fades out.

The crowd roars.

(After receiving my iPhone 4S, I got on a technology high and downloaded a bunch of apps. Among them was Colorsplash, which allows for simple color selection within a photo. This picture was taken with the iPhone 4 and edited using Colorslash and Photoshop apps. The poem was originally written for a college class.)