I wonder the fragrance of her hair,
when nestled in her shoulder, lips touch skin,
Let me breathe in your sense
before you leave me forever.
For it is that permanence
occurs every time I say good bye
Today I have been watching time
wishing only some sign,
an indication that tells me I am not crazy,
that this is real,
the ache I feel is the response to losing her.
I wanted summer to be alive with love,
a shower of affection like a late summer rain,
the two of us, soaked linens, laughing,
kissing each other in the constance
of a watery memory,
the times we would together,
flatter each other
with a certain elusive desire.
Yet it is today I stand
I wonder how much longer she can
let my need to share sensual dreams
her being by my side,
the scent of her,
stays in my mind,
There is a valley,
we all have a vantage point,
it carries a visual acumen,
filled with a variable progress.
I often wonder of accurate planning
the desire is action together
Yet we know acrimony might ensue
certainly we obscure our agency to love.
Would we in time languish desire,
that eternal love allows change
when what we long remains
always beyond lament’s labor.
If when we understand the truth
our lives would use simple time,
our world might utilize a passion
discreet yet real, a union met.
Can we begin to earn our truths
without the fear of every venue
combing the grounds to even the fare,
the beauty in love’s eternal eye.
Value allow love unusual ease.
Outside a romantic air,
we might intertwine fingers
to please one another,
the skin that alive arouses a moment,
when least anticipated,
I see to be enticed.
Sunset allows a measure of time,
the changing hour,
when our passions become a yearn,
a need, a want, a smile, a taste,
a hand dives alongside thighs alive.
We walk, talk, imagine next,
find allowance for a separation,
knowing soon our bodies
will share an evening sky
There’s a rain steady,
keeping indoors the traveler
whom might be seeking the wood,
may stroll along the coast,
skipping rocks, switching thoughts,
contemplating the beauty around them,
the coffee shop,
holds promise to the conversations
around that though similar, seem different,
contain stories all the same,
their worlds are always different,
in the context of their moments,
until we can catch each other’s eyes.
We wonder about the people next door,
a table nearby our own private world,
did they speak of it,
were they aware,
was there a time in their lives when everything,
seemed similar, possible, simple,
perhaps it is true,
they say it often enough to never forget,
we’re all the same,
we haven’t any lead on the element of change
the human condition might experience the same,
euphoric wonder built upon manifest tragedy.
I was sitting along with my company,
my world against hers,
together we were watching our own world,
responding to the elements in a unique fashion,
yet still, very still, almost
in a sort of decopaged setting,
to be measured in someone else’s eyes,
for they are the judge of this life,
we are simply the portrait.
A stillness in the air,
while we wait the rains,
they might part to give allowance
to nature’s Grace in the wooded freedom
of a dense forest,
away from all wander of deception.
While I stood inside the sidewalk cafe,
I watched the people around me,
create lives of envy,
to balance those of misfortune,
whose measure relied upon me,
or my own eyes, or their’s or someone
with similar passion.
Yet in all of our sightings,
there seems only one reality.
Know me when I suggest, the time it took to favor love,
is like a flashing seen by few, yet felt eternally.
It is that moment when your eyes do sparkle
when your hair holds luster,
your legs, oh my …
When time allows my love to reach for your heart,
a slow methodical touch of passion that would suggest,
when gone again, I will love you from afar,
until next time,
until your eyes avail my desire.
Oh I cannot define the hours of need,
when my body yearns to feel the center of your dreams.
I only ask for this moment to become a memory,
all told a nostalgia repeats itself whenever could
our lives cross paths with importance and purpose.
We are the delicious nature of an instinctual reality,
it is that time we are known
the time it takes,
the moment when two lives become one,
oh to favor time.
When we do go there,
our miles of dialogue discerned,
eyes searching, want,
the sudden though balanced
shift from anxiety to desire,
when we do, when touch
I imagine silk scarves covering her nakedness,
everything else is normalcy,
slides so effortlessly,
fun to pull with fingers,
more pleasurable to imagine,
the arousal, her skin, come alive
knowing she is being
loved in a physical way.
Oh there is certain in anticipation,
a rosy set of –
untouched yet yearning,
he sees, she knows, he knows, she …
when a moment allows the wetness
save the other, though always balance,
until there is a certain languid
sensuality that slides his mouth along lines,
toward another part of her nakedness,
his mouth plays, tongue tease,
she does again,
gasp, as his mouth lowers,
his hands return silks,
to naked, peaked – ,
shout to the touch, while
now the center will be his aim.
Oh to spend time here,
with hands that find,
with lips that do taste,
a desire in her eyes, looking for his,
for he is on a watch,
to notice her upper lip
settle in quiver
as yes he does,
the circles begin,
the fingertips respond, explore, search,
a designed rhythm
whereby bodies are moving,
his anticipation grinds into a corner
of silk bedding, save for later.
For now it is the duty, desire of his tongue,
to find her arch, that involuntary sweep of
that wanton nature,
of finding her rhythm to reach …
ah, breathe sweet, spent, curls and lips
rest upon my shoulder,
I would then feel her hands,
begin again …
For there is little else to suggest,
what is the fair nature of her season,
when an urgency to respond, let energy overcome
is all that seems necessary in a day.
Glance toward the beauty of woman,
she is that provocateur, a natural sense
of human nature on display,
yet, her inner peace ought be a certainty.
Indeed, the summer air does so trigger
an elegance in nature, in primal response,
yet so is the wonder of our soul
drawn to fulfill each moment we despair.
While walking alone today, a sunlit stage,
I do imagine her, in simple luxury,
the key to sweet solace her unspoken
elegance be my charge to rest my heart upon.