Cafe Deux Soliel - August 2, 2004

Your skin warms my skin
with the fluid and airy wetness
of your affection.
I drink your breath.
I love you, and say, "I love you."
into the scalp of hair above your ear.
I count the times my
hand touches yours.
The number races ahead of me
wonderfully.

Your breast fits into the warm
and relaxed muscles of my arm
like perfection.

The restaurant booth is small.
Your body is slender
and smooth as a handrail.

Let me die, I hear my voice say,
if I will never have this morning again.