As if thou were invisible
your presence is as palpable
as if you really were inside me
although I can’t see you
in the opaque midnight darkness
although the full moon is bright and shining
without penetrating the obscure corners
of where you and I make love together.
Maybe your invisibility
just adds to the enchantment
of your extraordinary presence
almost supernaturally in the haze of darkness
like the finest spice on top of the supreme deliciousness,
and thus your nakedness is hidden
in the veils of splendid midnight darkness,
making it the more enjoyable
in its unreachable but total presence.
Is it possible for love to be more perfect
in more total ambiguity, intrigue and mystery?