Knowing the Secret of You

I inhale, my chest full of you, and relax into knowing the secret of you. My lips are kissed by your soul and my want, embraced by your thighs. I see your colours, and taste the reason that you are. You smell of memories as I nestle into your womb and turn back the clock to learn you all over again. And the gossamer threads of your hair keep me safely wrapped about your bosom while I suckle at the honey dew that blankets your skin. You share all that you are, and more than your sum with me. You are my orchestra of sound and my eyes for seeing. You write my story day and night. But, most of all, you never let me caress empty pockets of time alone.