Head
tilted to the side.
She blushes;
She's clay to the touch,
Flesh to the mind.

My fingers,
like passengers aboard the Santa Maria,
explore a new world-
Every inch,
Every crevice,
Every curve;

She's the Venus de Milo-
Timeless.
Classic.

Delicate
like a ribbon
fluttering downward,
pulled from her hair
by lover's passion.

Her ******* are molded-
islands along the ocean I swim-
and an art form is born;
The simple movements:
Up,
Down,
To-and-fro.
Well thought out,
but not choreographed.

Color her
like the Roses on my tongue;
Entangled and Infatuated,
They speak of Youth,
Naivety,
nervousness....

Step back
and She blossoms to life.
A monument lays before me;
the mortal
achieve immortality.

Perfect
from her
Head
to her
Toes.

it was s p r i n g
but it felt like a u t u m n

too nervous
to drink my coffee

but you were too nervous
not to,
too nervous
to leave it sit,
too nervous
to let your hands be empty

it was spring
but it felt like autumn

darkness
surrounding

a l i g h t breeze
and then your lips
so soft and g e n t l e

were
on
mine

it was spring
but it felt like autumn

mobile ringing
a reminder of the night
coming t o a c l o s e

a reminder
i g n o r e d
while your fingers
ignited like fire
caressing my skin

i t was spring

but it f e l t like autumn

it felt like f o r e v e r

t   i   m   e   l   e   s   s

e     n     d     l     e     s     s

as i pulled
your lips
to mine