December 2001
When I think of you
And our life together,
A bird rushes from the blue,
Sits soft on my shoulder.
At the twilight moment of daytime
When picture frames become soft,
And pastel images subdue sharp lines,
Your gentleness can’t be stopped.
In the classic style of French wine making,
At the moment of effervescence,
Its transformation is magic like pearls,
So pure of heart in this oaken world,
You transform my liquid soul.
As your wet hair lays against
The crook of my neck,
And our bubbly skin rubs tensely
Along our moving, undulating hips,
We’re floating with sensuous hands
With climaxing tender toes to heads.
Your kind gestures and words
Touch a soft corner of my heart,
And we stop touching the earth.