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Here and now,
basking in the echoes
of your voice,
I feel your hands on me.

Hands I've never seen.

I run my fingers through
your ironed hair
and softly kiss your cheek
as the stains of memory
fade.

Toad legs and tattoos
intertwine; skin to skin,
we become one.

Within you, I shed
my shadows.
Surrounding me,
your fears fall away.

This is my here and now
as the night blooms
and sleep gathers dust.
An exotic orchid, of the mountains, her smile was scented invitation  
a jocular honey bee, elated by  her fragrance, than nectar, he was.
Covered all over with her pollen , he felt fulfilled, an instinct deeply hidden. prompting.
"To me memories are to be perfect" said, the handmaid of whimsy
"But when I am gone" sighed she "None will ever remember me"
he too felt sad, doleful was her mood and the words,
he fell silent , thought for a long moment and replied:
"Let me be candid about this, though to your  fragrance I've given my heart,
unless the offer of honey is implicit, why should I come searching for you?
We both give and take too, that's the prompt of nature true,
we can't help it, that's why we do; more than that all nature decides"
The flower stood mute and wistful, then serenely smiled,
it was time for them to part, the wind whistled its sly message.
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