with my eyes closed

2003-10-19
Sometimes I pretend that I catch your scent in the air and breathe it into my mouth so that I can taste you. I wonder if your skin needs my tongue to trace the images I see when I think of you. There is no doubt in my mind that you rise in the morning like the flowers I wish we could lie in as the sun brings them awake. Let me be the breeze that makes your petals quiver.