When your teeth trace my skin,
and lovers' worries seem to disappear
beneath tides of lust and gin,
I am most myself.
Sweet daffodil memory
tied between eyes shut wide,
seep in, soft nectar.
The branches twist through me
and sway to the flow of your breath.
Children fawn over one another,
crashing and tilting all
through the darkness. You leave
a honeysuckle trace, bittersweet
and barely tangible.
You always have to leave,
but still remains the scent
woven through my body.
I close my eyes and drink in
the sweetness all around.
It lingers between my eyes.