Archive: M_A, SWAL. Anywhere else, please ask first.
Archive Date: April 24, 2000
Category: Poem, POV
Disclaimer: I don't own the Jedi, and I don't make a dime.
Feedback: Of course! It's the breath of life.
Pairing: Q/O
Rating: PG
Summary: Heh. Obi-Wan has a fantasy.
And think of you-
How I'd love to run my hands
Down the warm planes of your body.
Stroke, caress, and kiss once or twice.
I think-the image growing sharp-
How I'd die to see your loosened hair
Spread out on our bedsheets,
Tumbled in wild disarray.
I'd just watch for a moment,
Drink in the sight and scent of you,
Hear you plead in that oh-so-calm voice
(Now grown harsh, breaking with need)
And I'd take the open road to your heart
Conquer it with a look, a word, a touch.
My head is aching yet
But as I sit on the floor
And think of you-
And think of you-
I am no longer quite so tired.