FRUITION

FRUITION

From a candle’s light my face is caressed
by flickering shadows dancing
with air cool brushing my skin
my eyes itch closed
in a blue fog of sweet wonder
will I see her again?

To a harps coo
off I drift to
the meeting place
where meadows of lemon grass
meet groves of spearmint
where thunder showers of honey
still water her cranberried smile.

Here she emerges with
a stomach of sandalwood
vanilla on dabbed wrists
jasmine dipped hair
silk smoothed hands, fingers, and toes
with cherry blossom shoulders, chin, and bosom
flowing in lime salted chiffon.

Unnamed, my light soothes
her voice melodic
whose hands cup my tears, whose hands hold
whose passion keeps me from
all that is wicked
all which is wrong.

Love listens as the orchestra begins:
on their notes
her lotioned touch by violin
her small movements around by piano keys in C minor
her deep explorations release to the synthesizer
as resting in her fluted arch, I lift
assisted by incoming winds, brass, percussion, and strings.

Hours
caring for every pore
and tracing every lemon twist.

Days
kissing every scar
from the shores of mango streams.

Weeks
circling every mole
in the morning tide's apple spritz.

Months
unlocking doors
with candied teases.

Years
cultivating memories
bathing in springs without lament

returning life to...
places, centuries cold.