love wounds me with soft pillows with tender lips and fingers

when whisperedwhat an exquisitesong, it makes-your name.

Hands. Cheeks. Eyes. Lips.Neck. Ears.Thighs.Heart. Soul.Ahh!the things I get tosavor you with.

our feet are grape-squashed in memoriesour skins are still flushedfrom the touch of summer’s lips.

There is a moon,that rests in the quiet cornersof a lover’s lips.

there have been morningsso quiet and tenderlike a poem, on Thursday's lipsthat I wonderedif I'd been kissed at all...

I realizedJune had never beenjust a monthmusic...never just a trembleon my lipswarmth was nevermerely a blanket.

Scatter as a prayerescaping my lips...as orchidsblooming in clouds.