Nocturne.
I remember,
the Vetiver night -
all pillow scented
innocence
and star-fueled lust
of youth.
We, as lovers
sharing delighted air
deep, below
the honeyed ocean thrall
in flow and pull,
of sense’s haul.
Tuned high
like piccolo snares
in the grand pre-amble
of life - before
the musty quiet
theatre bow.
You and me,
velvet fleshed,
brushing the skin
of our very being
against the inner folds
of who we were, and are.
Endless,
Complex,
Compelling.
I looked into your eyes
and saw it all.