senses

Copper rings on our fingers,
green circles so we remember,
Remember these,
the color of colors - vivid, livid, always at our window.
the slopes of Camden speckled blue in August,
wild splendors held in your flashing eyes.
Remember scent also,
the majesty of anticipation,
seduction of the breezes, never fully introduced,
yet adored - goddess of a mother's kitchen.
And touch,
to behold a face in the darkest shadows,
to gently caress the texture of canyon walls,
fingertips, lips, our shoulders beneath the surface of wave,
how sensuous, how tremendous.
Remember avocado, smooth to the edges of a tongue,
this writhing lover - sensation,
my dearest gifts and my most sincere offerings,
linger here gently, slow these flavors, drift aimlessly into my mind.
Remember our voice,
whispers trembling deep - down into our pleasure,
a thought breathed into existence,
the playfulness and the motion of music,
having its way with our souls - exposing tears, kindling rage,
first language, poetry of only vibrations.
Miraculous.
Remember these senses, these all together,
leave me senseless.



Andrew Tipton