as the morning breeze wafts
over fragrant jasmine and bela

and the parakeets roost
in guava trees

and the slant of the mango tree
welcomes the sun on dewdrops

i hear the call to prayer and my heart supplicates
my body trembles and i kneel

my hands fold in prayer
my fingers run over the holy beads

and as my body surrenders
to words as old as time is told

i feel the rivulets of sweat down my back
my body continuing it’s dance of offering

and as i hear the raucous chatter of the birds
and the sounds of the house stirring

i give thanks for another morning
and give in to the pleasure of being

You caress my palms, kissing the ridges of my knuckles
With the sweet tenderness of peaches hanging under the sun.
Your tongue is a river rock smoothed over
By torrents of stream-water, turned pink by the subtle heartbeat
Of escalating pulsations from thumb-tip to chest.
Your lips are the gentle puckering catfish upon my neck,
Tickling veins like spindle-legged crayfish.
Your eyes bore softly into mine like melting rivulets,
Blue-rushing, meeting a freckle of green and flecks of hazel,
Laid upon me like the blanket I had when I was three,
Teasing me like a feather flirting with grasses on the bank.
Your fingers embrace the small dip of my ankle, motionless against skin.
Your body is a poem, speaking louder than your tongue,
Forming sonnets with your spine and simple words, saying “I adore you.”