Torture of love

Gold hair shines
In the Hungarian summer twilight.
My head rests
On his muscled chest,
Paradoxically soft.
He asks me if
I’m cold, and
I assent, though I only
Feel the bite of
The wind on the ancient Danube
Slightly.
He puts his arms around my
Smaller frame,
And my arms somehow find
Their way around his torso.
We stand there for
What seems like eternity,
Talking about everything
Around us but
What’s really happening.
We are nervous,
Afraid to press too much,
To hold too close.
Yet, to my wonder,
His head sinks lower,
Almost to mine and
One of his hands moves
Down my back.
A tingle washes over him and me,
Like a gold shower
Enveloping us both.
Our own world comes into play
For one bright moment,
And we almost taste
Lips on lips, but,
To our despair,
The fleshly world pulls us apart
And we must go back to
Our lives as we know them.
Now I have to live apart
From him,
His touch (O, heaven!),
And the golden world
We shared.
This is torture,
This agony I
Can scarcely bear
I only pray
That one day
We may share again
That world we once knew.