I still walk across your crooked kitchen floor,
in my fine tuned dreams,
The tiny front room where you seduced me,
with nuances of notes that have have settled on my soul
like lichen,
Filling me with hundred dollar whisky and saxaphone sound
that seemed to be tendrils that whispered through me,
It was only when I cried out with the beauty ,
that you took me trembling,
took me down to the sublime,
Wrapping me in circles of you,
turning and twisting with hard fingers,
moulding me to you,
I am still there in my fine tuned dreams,
supple in your love.....