we hold our breaths watching
shadows dance around violet candles
the air is hot and humid and
filled with unspoken confessions

the flames flicker with visions
of all the stories we could create
under a cloak of sweat and fire
dreams of love become one with desire

let me light another candle

the purple one, for its scent
even thousands of miles away
if there is one thing i know, it is this:
lavender will always remind me of you

there is something so intimate
in the way you shed my robes
in the sway of your hips
and the red of your lips

in the way your body stretches
under my seamless silk sheets
wearing nothing but fine gold
what a sight to behold

forget the silk sheets and fancy robes

they have always looked better on you
but: this sight of lost control
and the flush against your cheeks
this is the intimacy i crave and seek

silence rings aloud
waiting to be broken by you
with a litany of praises
my name as interludes

murmured against my skin
falling from your tongue
slipping through your lips
squeezed between the steady pulses

this is truly all we need

there is something so beautiful
about the tranquility of silence
but: my name sounds so lovely
when you are breathless

lemon, a touch too artificial
sugar, a touch too sweet
in an owl painted mug, a touch too hot

that first sip hits like a memory
it drags with it the smell of coffee
       black, no room
and the taste of your name
the sound of a coffee shop
       of a donut shop
blood orange slices and citrus frosting and paper straws
       soaked
              soaking
                     disintegrating

the memory dissolves alongside the straw
and the back of my throat burns
at a touch too much
it rings in my ears, trailing behind Freddie Mercury
crooning about how he doesn’t want to die
       i told you i didn’t want to die anymore that first night
and i pretend i don’t hear you singing along
i pretend you didn’t see me cry on the side of the road
       for two hours
i pretend i don’t miss the way you held my hand
i pretend
       i don’t
              miss
                     you

lemon, a touch too artificial
sugar, a touch too sweet
in an owl painted mug, a touch too hot

that first sip hits like a memory
it drags with it the smell of coffee
black, no room
and the taste of your name
the sound of a coffee shop
of a donut shop
blood orange slices and citrus frosting and paper straws
soaked
soaking
disintegrating

the memory dissolves alongside the straw
and the back of my throat burns
at a touch too much

Fragrance imbedded in my mind
Fragrance of a very special kind
Like parfume of the cherry blossoms
Rising up to heaven.
Walking through the streets
memories of you and me
connected with this fragrance
Bringing everything back to life
Pleasure, pain and delight.
All feelings
like imbedded fragrance
Stay forever in the mind.
How I loved your fragrance.

Shell✨🐚

My sense of taste has turned liquid
and melted away like soft butter.
I need it to savor the summer days
of my inner orchard. I need it to
open like a pomegrante blossom.
I need a bite of the powered sugar moon.
I want to savor amber pears falling
from laden boughs, the plasy juice
of ripe peaches.

I crave the smooth velvet richness
of a mouthful of langage,
heaping spoonfuls of words
sweetened by liquid light,
the flavor of mellow memories.
I need poetry full of pastry –
« sugar pyramids of confectionery . »

Taste, where have you gone ? Have you
fled from the wineglass weary of holding wine ?
Must I create a feast of literary edibles
to get you back ?