I can still taste him on my lips.
Like glacial water and exposed greens
and a blueberry sweetness
lingering.
The lure of his essence
as oceans tugging at the distance,
as flowers blooming in mystery,
honeystuck.
His presence so ghostly
it moves like peace
has my head at his windy palm,
his closeness
mountainous.
And silence accommodates the hour
when he opens my chest
to find a heart
dancing.
Where I can sleep safely
dream freely,
swim with starry wonder,
feel.
Yes, he is, so soft and ripe,
so mellow and delicious,
a soul-stealing
ecstasy.
Leave a Comment