Not yet, your voice fluttered, look closer…
Our lips shuddered with promise,
anticipation’s ephemeral stillness
gripped all else inside the dream.
I’m not usually swept into immediacy
but I was already dreaming in a field
of fragrant orange and yellow flowers,
of crimson locks glowing in the sun.
The slight curve in a shy sweet smile,
shadows making little silhouettes across freckles.
Not yet, your voice fluttered, look closer…
Hold tight to the one note in the air,
but I only sense your taste and warmth
beginning to storm through me.
