Loving Differently Poem by Aida Santos

If loving me differently
is the tight embrace of our thighs
the crescendo of kisses on necks and lips
breeze-like whispers of broken words
maddening moans melding memories,

If loving me differently
is like the warmth of morning sun
or the full moon of entwined bodies
tingling in a revisited terrain of touch
remembering desire’s familiar maps,

(while the clear nightsky peeps
through the open window that dares
the ears of slumbering neighbors) .

If loving me differently
is you lingering everywhere, here and there
and I caressing old memories of love
on your moistened brown skin
our eyes tracing the lines in our faces,

If loving me differently
is the feverish anticipation to ran the distance
between the days that madly click the hours
on our bodies, ticking like twinned clocks
waiting for the next knock on my door,

(and there are no promises
no tears, no farewells
no dates to forge or forget) .

Then love me these ways, as you say, so differently.

(2006)