Senses

opening the blinds-
the white light of a full moon
caresses your skin
–
pounding surf-
the taste of salt
on your lips

sight not born of eyes-
I see every detail of
the shape of your soul
–
winter morning-
the smell of your pipe
still lingers

fields of lavender-
if tomorrow never comes
at least we’ll have this
–
apricot sunrise-
hints of vanilla
on the breeze

your head on my chest
my face buried in your hair
breathing in your scent
–
the witching hour-
watching your heart
softly beating