Desire quietly creeps

Desire creeps on little cat feet,

Slowly, steathily, filling the darkness

With softness and moaning

Thought held hostage to the foggy

Ache of need, willing our bodies

To act, steaming up the night,

Desire is the crescendo of our love

Our bodies know our minds and follow

Those tender cat paws into the darkness,

They know our hearts as the darkness

Fills with the heat of night

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A footnote: Over 50 years ago, I wrote a poem in which
desire crept quietly on little cat feet, and the steamy heat
is all that remains of the original in my mind. This attempt
to reconstruct completely misses but it's fun trying!